


Continuum

by W0rldofmy0wn



Series: The Note [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Angst, F/F, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Love, all that good stuff, family building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 223,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5524895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/W0rldofmy0wn/pseuds/W0rldofmy0wn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all know the silly rhyme: First comes love (check), then comes marriage (check), then comes the baby in the baby carriage. Clarke and Lexa have the love: they've had it since sixteen. After waiting for a decade they got the marriage. Now they want to expand their family, and luckily for them there happen to be three kids who are going to steal their hearts. Sequel to "The Note."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One - Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my wonderful readers, and Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! As my final gift to you this holiday season, here is the first chapter of "Continuum." I really hope you all enjoy it. For anyone who doesn't know, this is the sequel to my story "The Note." While I advise reading that before reading this, I don't think it's exactly necessary. A lot of what will be written in this story is directly related to the previous story, but this is its own tale. Also, "Unbroken" is still my main focus right now, but I will be updating this story periodically as well, and honestly, the more I know you guys like this and are interested in it, probably the more I will update. So yeah, let me know your thoughts! Thanks everyone!
> 
> I do not own "The 100" or any of its characters. Unfortunately.

She felt a pair of lips graze lightly against her neck, and Clarke smiled before she even opened her eyes. She knew those lips anywhere, whether she was dreaming or awake, so it was easy, in that place dancing between sleep and consciousness, to turn into them, and then they were against her own lips and she was still smiling. She felt the lips pull up into a smile as well, and it was only then that she finally opened her eyes, the light of the morning streaming into their bedroom window but blocked by the beautiful face pressed against hers. She felt a hand move to her neck, a finger brushing against her jaw softly even as she watched the person above her open her own eyes, and then the corners of those green eyes crinkled as the smile made its way to them. Clarke felt her own smile grow as her hand moved up to cup the other woman's cheek, deepening the kiss for just a moment before their lips parted.  
  
“Good morning,” Lexa whispered, her fingers brushing against the blonde's jaw again. “Happy anniversary.”  
  
Clarke's smile grew before she lifted her head up, capturing those lips once again, loving the feel of their mouths together just as much as she had the first time they ever kissed. “Good morning to you,” she replied as she pulled back, her smile obvious even in her tone. “Happy anniversary.” Lexa's smile only grew, before she leaned down, fingers wrapping in her hair to pull her closer as their lips came together again. They fell into their rhythm, a rhythm they had developed after so many years of marriage, pushing and pulling against each other easily, fingers tangled in hair or brushing against skin. The blankets on top of them moved as they did, coming untucked as Lexa moved to straddle Clarke's hips, their lips still together. The brunette's fingers moved from the blonde's face, trailing between their bodies and hovering against the hem of Clarke's t-shirt, the blonde shivering as she felt the pads of her fingers just barely brush against her stomach.  
  
Just as Lexa's fingers were about to dance up Clarke's shirt, they heard a small crash from outside of their room, as though two pots had been hit together, though whether it had been done accidentally or on purpose neither could tell. They paused in their movements, lips coming apart as Lexa picked her head up, tilting just barely to the side. Clarke mirrored the action, listening for further noise as well, and now that they were focused on it, they could hear dull movements and the sound of people talking from the kitchen below them. Clarke turned to look at the clock on their bedside table and whistled.  
  
“They're up before eight? On a Saturday?” she said, the surprise clear in her voice. Lexa's eyebrows rose in reply, her own shock clear.  
  
“The world must be ending,” she replied, and then carefully sat up, swinging her leg over so she no longer straddled her wife. She heard Clarke sigh wistfully and turned, giving her a grin before she stood up, holding her hand out. “Come on,” she said, watching as the blonde sat up and took her hand, allowing her to pull her out of bed, “Let's go see what those daughters of yours are doing.”  
  
“When they're up before eight they're _your_ daughters,” Clarke argued, making Lexa's grin only grow, but let the brunette lead the way from their bedroom. Walking down the hall, they peaked into both bedrooms, and sure enough neither of their daughters were in their beds, an extremely strange occurrence so early on a Saturday morning. They made their way down the stairs, fingers still lazily wrapped around each other, and then turned the corner into their kitchen. There they found both daughters standing next to the stove with two pans in front of them.  
  
“Hey, watch it Sky, that grease is hot!” they heard their oldest daughter exclaim, nudging her sister over slightly so that she had more room to work with the pan in front of her.  
  
“I can't control where the grease goes, Tris, it's not like the bacon's gonna listen to me!” their youngest daughter replied, very much sounding like the teenager she almost was.  
  
Clarke interrupted them before it could go any further, asking loudly, “Alright, who are you two and what did you do with my children?”  
  
Lexa lifted her nose in the air, catching the scent of bacon cooking, and added, “And what do we do to keep you? Something smells good.”  
  
Tris and Skylar both turned around, shooting grins at their mothers before they exclaimed together, “Surprise! Happy anniversary!”  
  
Both women's smiles only grew as they moved to sit at the bar stools they had set up next to the small island that separated the kitchen from their dining room table.  
  
“Aww, you guys didn't have to do this,” Clarke told them, shooting them both a thankful smile.  
  
Tris just shrugged, turning around and flipping the three pancakes on the griddle in front of her.  
  
“Yeah, we know we didn't have to, but we wanted to,” she replied, and then once each pancake was flipped she turned back around and shot a grin at her mother, adding, “Plus it keeps Mama from trying to cook you breakfast. This way none of us had to wake up to the fire alarm.”  
  
Clarke let out a laugh, but Lexa scowled at the older girl.  
  
“Hey, I can make pancakes,” she argued, and Tris just raised her eyebrows at her, a habit she easily could have picked up from either of her mothers. It was Skylar who answered though, not bothering to turn around as she said, “No offense Mama, but the last time you tried to make pancakes you almost burned the kitchen down. This is just safer.” Tris grinned before she turned back around, and Clarke had to stifle another laugh as Lexa just glared harder at her daughters. She nudged the brunette's side, catching her attention, before she said quietly, “I love your burnt pancakes.”  
  
“Burnt or raw,” they heard Tris mutter as she lifted the three pancakes expertly from her griddle and placed them on a plate she had ready and waiting beside her. As soon as they were out she was lifting the bowl of pancake batter, pouring little pools of it on to the griddle. While she worked, Skylar used a set of tongs to carefully lift the cooked bacon from the pan in front of her and put it on her own prepared plate, the paper towel already on it soaking up the extra bacon grease.  
  
Lexa rolled her eyes, but then just let out a long sigh. It was a long running joke in their family that she couldn't cook, and the unfortunate part of the joke was that it was completely true, even if she tried to deny it. She clearly remembered the smoke that filled up the kitchen the last time she had tried to make pancakes and bacon, and she imagined even if she could forget it, her oldest daughter would never let her.  
  
“Alright, enough about my cooking abilities,” she said, and then heard all three of them chorus, “Or lack there of.” Tris and Skylar high-fived each other, laughing, and Lexa turned to glare at her wife whose own smile barely faltered under her glare.  
  
“I'm sorry sweetie,” the blonde told her, squeezing her fingers tighter, “But you can't cook and we all know it. We still love you, though.”  
  
Lexa was about to reply when a black figure jumped up onto the surface in front of her, walking gracefully before her. The cat turned to her, eyes meeting her own, and she turned her attention to the cat, choosing to let the conversation of her poor cooking skills drop.  
  
“Panther, down,” she said, free hand moving to the cat who just gave her a look as she lifted him off of the counter and bent over to gingerly drop him to the floor, his feet easily breaking the fall. He shot her a look before he sat and began licking himself, acting as though he hadn't just been caught somewhere he knew he wasn't supposed to be.  
  
Seeing the cat Clarke frowned, looking around.  
  
“Where's Pauna?” she asked, knowing that if they were all there then the old dog shouldn't be far away.  
  
“She's right here,” Skylar replied, turning around and smiling down at the floor by their feet, and the two mothers lifted themselves up slightly in their chairs to find the old Boxer/Pitbull mix laying on the floor on the other side of the island. She lifted her head up slightly when they moved, sending them both one of her doggy grins, but didn't get up from her spot on the floor. A moment later Panther moved around the island, going straight for the dog and sitting next to her as though he were watching out for his old friend.  
  
Lexa raised her eyebrows at her youngest daughter, saying, “You've been feeding her bacon, haven't you?”  
  
The young girl merely rolled her eyes before she replied, “I only gave her _one_ piece.” Her mother just shook her head, the corners of her mouth pulling up into the smallest of grins.  
  
The family continued talking as the two daughters continued making breakfast, and when they were about done their mothers got up and moved to get plates and silverware to set the table with. Lexa was just pouring orange juice into the cups Clarke had placed on the table when the blonde's cell phone rang, the ring tone one they all easily recognized. Another smile growing on her face, Clarke moved to the counter where her cell phone sat and picked it up, immediately putting it on speaker phone as she answered.  
  
“Cal!” she exclaimed, “Even you're up early. It really is the end of the world.”  
  
“Hey Mum, yeah, I am,” they heard him say from over the phone, “I just wanted to wish you both a happy anniversary! I figured you'd all probably be eating around now. Hey Ma.”  
  
“Morning Kiddo,” Lexa called, stepping over to Clarke so that she could be heard easier. “So you knew about this breakfast surprise, huh?”  
  
“Uh yeah, who do you think gave them the idea?” they heard their son say, which just made Tris scoff.  
  
“No you didn't,” she replied, rolling her eyes at the phone as if her brother could see it. “This was totally my idea.”  
  
“It was definitely Cal's idea,” Skylar said softly, causing her sister to glare at her but making her brother laugh.  
  
“See? Sky knows the truth,” Cal told them, but then changed the subject. “But anyway, it doesn't matter. I just wanted to wish you guys a happy anniversary and say I'm sorry I can't be there.”  
  
“No worries Cal,” Clarke replied, holding the phone up closer to her face. “We know you've gotta work. Since I've gotta work too this afternoon, I don't think you're missing much other than this amazing breakfast your sisters are making us.”  
  
“How's the gallery?” Lexa asked, and they heard the sigh from the other end of the line.  
  
“Pretty much dead,” he groaned, “Which I guess isn't surprising, considering most of the student body's gone home for the summer. And most of the townies don't really care about coming into the gallery, so we don't get many people at all.”  
  
“What do you expect?” Tris asked, pulling the last stack of pancakes from the griddle, “It's a college art gallery. No one wants to spend their summer in a boring art gallery except for you, ya geek.”  
  
“Tris,” Lexa warned, raising her eyebrows, but the girl just returned the look.  
  
“What?” she asked, “It's true.”  
  
“Well I'm hoping to come see it soon,” Clarke told her son, ignoring the looks between Lexa and Tris, “I'm excited; it's been way too long since I've been able to spend some time in an art gallery, summer time or not.”  
  
“See?” Tris said, not taking her eyes off of her mother while she gestured to the other one with her spatula. “They're both geeks.”  
  
“And proud of it,” Clarke informed her, winking. Tris just rolled her eyes.  
  
“Definitely,” Cal agreed, and then there was a pause as they heard some movement on his end of the line, before he said, “But anyway, I gotta go now. Bye all, and again, happy anniversary Moms!”  
  
“Thanks Calvin,” Clarke said, “Bye, and I hope you get some people in the gallery today. Love you!”  
  
“Bye dude, and thanks, and love you. We'd better see you soon,” Lexa added, and both girls just called out, “Bye Cal!”  
  
“Thanks all, and yeah, I love you too, and I'll see what I can do, Ma,” he said before they heard the line beep, and then he was gone.  
  
“Alright, so now that that's done, time to eat!” Tris exclaimed, bringing the plate of pancakes to the table, Skylar following her with the bacon.  
  
“Sounds good to me!” Clarke exclaimed, sitting in her usual seat at the table, “I'm starving!”  
  
“Me too!” Skylar agreed, grinning as she sat down, quickly stabbing one of the pancakes with her fork and placing it on her plate. The family all began to dig in, happy noises coming from all of them as they took those first few bites.  
  
“I admit, these are much better than I could make,” Lexa conceded, earning a smile from her youngest daughter and a grin and an eye roll from her oldest.  
  
“Duh,” Tris replied, her tone teasing as she took another bite of her pancake followed quickly by a bit of bacon.  
  
Clarke just shook her head at them, before she looked at both girls, telling them, “Don't forget that we're going over to Nana's for a little while this morning to help her out with some things.” She looked up at Lexa, adding, “It probably won't take very long, but we should probably take two cars, in case I have to leave for work before it's all done.”  
  
Lexa merely shrugged, giving her a nod as she said, “That works for me.”  
  
“Can't we just go over early?” Skylar asked, tilting her head a bit, giving her mothers a look. “I mean, we're all up anyway, so why not just go early? Then we can take one car, and we'll definitely be done by the time you have to go to work.”  
  
Clarke looked at Lexa, meeting her eyes, and the other woman simply shrugged again.  
  
“That works for me if it works for your mother,” the brunette simply said before she took a bite of bacon.  
  
The blonde nodded before telling them, “Alright, then I'll call Nana when we're done eating, and see if she minds if we come over a little early. Does that work for you, Tris?”  
  
The teenager just shrugged, much in the way her mother had, and then replied, “Yeah, sure, that's fine with me.”  
  
“Alright then,” Clarke said, a smile on her lips, and then they all continued to eat, easy conversation going around, often times interrupted with a bit of laughter. It was a simple morning, but a special morning, because they very seldom got to start a day like this, sitting together as a family. To both women, it was already an amazing anniversary, and it was barely past eight. 

***

“Can I go to the Birchs' tonight?”  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Lexa saw Clarke raise her eyes at their daughter via the rear-view mirror.  
  
“Are Octavia and Lincoln going to be there?” the blonde simply asked, and Lexa could practically hear the eye roll she received as a response.  
  
“Yeah, they're gonna be there, but I don't get why they always have to be,” Tris complained, and from her own look in the rear-view mirror Lexa could see the teenager cross her arms across her front. “It's not like me and Jonas are gonna do anything. We're just friends.”  
  
“Sure you are,” Skylar muttered quietly, earning a side-long glare from her sister. The two mothers tried to contain their grins, keeping their faces straight as Clarke simply replied, “It's not that we don't trust you, Tris, we're just more comfortable with it when his parents are there. Especially if the twins are there too.”  
  
“Just two more reasons we wouldn't be doing anything,” the older girl growled, but then just sighed and asked, “So I can go?”  
  
The two parents shot a quick look at each other, Lexa only taking her eyes off the road for a moment before they both nodded. “Yeah, you can go,” the brunette told her, earning a grin from her daughter.  
  
“Cool, thanks,” Tris replied, quickly grabbing her cell phone from her pocket and shooting a text which both mothers assumed was to Jonas to tell him the news. Neither mother noticed the little grin at the corners of her mouth as her gaze darted out the window before she started her text. Her sister did though, and gently elbowed her side, sending her a silent warning. The older sister merely stuck her tongue out, earning an eye roll from Skylar which perfectly mirrored the one she had done just moments ago.  
  
Not noticing any of this, Clarke offhandedly asked while she looked out her own window from the passenger's seat, “What are you and Jonas gonna do tonight?”  
  
Tris just shrugged, saying, “I don't know. Probably just watch movies like usual. Try to avoid the twin terrors.”  
  
“Andy and Liv are not terrors and you better not ever say that around them,” her mother scolded, blue eyes piercing at her from the mirror once again.  
  
“Mum, all little siblings are terrors,” Tris replied, earning an immediate, “Hey!” from Skylar. The older girl just looked at her and shrugged, saying, “What, it's true.”  
  
Trying to once again contain a grin, Lexa pointed out, “Tris, you do remember that you too are a little sibling, yes?” The girl met her gaze in the mirror and nodded, telling her, “Yeah, I know, and if you ask Cal I guarantee he'd tell you I'm a terror too. Just like Sky is to me.”  
  
“You are way more of a pain than I am,” Skylar informed her, glaring at her, and Tris just returned the look with a grin.  
  
“Nah, it's definitely you,” Tris declared and Skylar opened her mouth to argue but Clarke cut them both off.  
  
“Alright, enough, both of you,” she told them, shaking her head. “Neither of you are terrors or pains, just like Andy and Liv aren't either. Siblings are just siblings, and that's all there is to it.”  
  
“Like either of you would know,” Tris said, raising her eyebrows and looking between them, “You're both an only child.”  
  
Clarke turned slightly in her seat, shooting her a grin while she replied, “Yeah that's true, but I had something worse than siblings: I had Octavia, Raven and Bellamy. Trust me, I didn't need siblings when I had those three to take care of.”  
  
“And I had Lincoln and Anya,” Lexa added, her eyes moving back up to the mirror for a moment. “There is no one scarier than your Aunt Anya, trust me.”  
  
“Accurate,” Clarke agreed with a nod, and Tris and Skylar both partially nodded as well.  
  
“Alright, so you have a point,” Tris admitted, “But it's still annoying whenever the twins try to barge in and hang out with me and Jonas. If we're gonna babysit we wanna get paid.”  
  
“You make it sound like they're five,” Clarke said, shaking her head once again. “They're almost a year older than your sister.”  
  
Tris shot a look over at Skylar and said, “Yeah, and if we're gonna babysit her we wanna get paid too.” This time it was Skylar who stuck her tongue out at Tris.  
  
Lexa was about to say something to her daughter when she turned down the street leading to Clarke's childhood home, and frowned. As she got closer to the house, a number of cars were lined up on the side of the road, and the more she looked at them, the more she recognized them. Clarke must have noticed them too, because her brow pulled down, eyes looking out the window and murmured, “What the...” A moment later Lexa was pulling the car into the driveway and suddenly something else caught their attention, completely making them forget about the cars.  
  
“Calvin!” Clarke exclaimed, a huge smile breaking out on her face, and as soon as the car was parked she was unbuckled and out of the vehicle, hurrying over to where their son sat on the front steps, apparently waiting for them. He grinned when he saw her, standing up and accepting the giant hug she gave him and returning it with equal force. Lexa exited the car only a hair slower, her surprise still clear on her face as she moved over to them both, and he grinned at her from over the blonde's head, holding an arm out so that his other mother could hug him as well, an invitation Lexa quickly accepted. They heard the backseat doors open and then Tris and Skylar got out of the car as well, and when Lexa looked back at them she saw the equally big grins on their faces.  
  
“How, what, what are you doing here?!” Clarke finally asked, pulling away from their son just far enough so that she could look up to meet his eyes. They both had to look up standing this close to him, the nineteen year old almost half a foot taller than Lexa now.  
  
Calvin's grin only grew as he told them, “It's all part of the surprise. I got my shifts switched around at the art gallery, and got here last night. Nana's letting me stay with her, and I helped her get everything ready. I'm here for the next two days before I have to head back.”  
  
“Two days? That's wonderful!” Clarke exclaimed, her excitement clear as she squeezed her son again, but Lexa frowned at him, asking, “Help Nana get ready for what?”  
  
He just grinned and stepped back as Tris and Skylar walked past them, both also still grinning as Skylar opened the front door.  
  
“Come on,” he just said mysteriously, and Lexa and Clarke looked at each other, both clearly having no idea what was going on, but they followed their children into Clarke's mother's house. They walked through the living room and into the kitchen, seeing little that seemed to be out of place, but as soon as they walked into the kitchen and could see out the opened sliding-glass door, both of their jaws dropped. Above the doorway hung a long banner which read, “Happy 15 Year Anniversary” with pictures of both of them sketched on it. Even more surprising than that, however, was the fact that standing in Abby's backyard was almost everyone who they considered to be family.  
  
“Surprise!” everyone roared as they stepped out onto the deck, and both women's gaze swept around the yard. Abby and Gustus both stood on the deck, beaming at them. Beside them stood Bellamy and Echo, their eight-year old daughter River standing between them and grinning up at them. Octavia, Lincoln and Anya all stood to the other side of the deck, a satisfied smirk on Octavia's face as she saw the look of shock from the two women. With them stood Raven, her eleven-month old son Tony balanced on her hip while her teenage son Jason stood beside her. Behind them stood Ryder, his hand on Raven's shoulder while Tony gripped a finger on his other hand in his little fist. Down on the lawn they found Octavia and Lincoln's children, Andy and Liv already in bathing suits and sitting by the pool while their older siblings sat at one of the picnic tables that seemed to have been set up just for this occasion. With Emma and Jonas at the table were Jasper and Maya and Monty and Miller, while at the other table Jasper and Maya's children, Wyatt and Parker, sat with Monty's son Spencer. Everyone was looking at the two women still standing in the doorway, and everyone was smiling at them.  
  
“What... What is this?” Clarke finally asked, her shock wearing off just enough for her to get the words out.  
  
“This is your surprise anniversary party,” Octavia informed her, moving over to stand between them and slinging her arms over both of their shoulders. “And by the looks on your faces, it is most definitely a surprise. Nice job guys!” The end bit was directed to their three children, all of whom had stepped to the side to make it easier for their mothers to take it all in, the proud grins only growing on their faces as their mothers turned to them.  
  
“You guys did this?” Lexa asked, her eyes once again sweeping over the people in the backyard, a smile slowly forming on her lips as her shock wiped away.  
  
“Eh, it was no big deal,” Tris replied with a shrug, eyes still sparkling as she looked at her parents. “Just took a few phone calls.”  
  
“Um, some phone calls and some planning, actually,” Cal said, giving his sister a look, but then he turned back to his mothers and his smile returned, adding, “But yeah, I guess it wasn't too difficult to bring it all together. Everyone was more than happy to make this work.”  
  
“God, you have no idea how hard it was to keep it a secret,” Raven informed them, stepping up while she shifted Tony to her other hip. One corner of her mouth turned up in a smirk as she said, “This has been planned for weeks now, and we've all had to keep it quiet. Not as easy as you might think.”  
  
“So I take it you didn't actually need help with anything, huh Mom?” Clarke asked, turning to her mother who shot her a smile.  
  
“No, we just needed an excuse to get you both here,” Abby told her, “And it made sense to have the party here since it's nearby and since there's the pool for the kids to play in.”  
  
As if on cue, they all heard a splash and turned to see Andy and Liv surfacing in the water, clearly having decided they had waited long enough to get in the pool. As their laughter rang out, Clarke just shook her head, a smile on her face. Suddenly she frowned though, looking at them all as she said, “Thanks for this guys, it's incredibly amazing, but I have to work this afternoon, remember? I can't stay for long.”  
  
“Wrong,” Tris sang, and then Octavia rolled her eyes before telling the blonde, “Please Clarke, we got you out of classes for two days after my wedding, do you really think we weren't able to get you off of one afternoon of work?”  
  
“I'm sorry, what?” Clarke asked, raising her eyebrows, and the smaller woman's grin just grew. It was Raven who answered, however, informing her, “Well actually, this time it was all Abby, we really had nothing to do with it, but I am hurt that you would think we wouldn't think of such a little detail as that. Truly hurt. It's like you don't know us at all.”  
  
Ignoring Raven, Clarke turned to her mother, raising her eyebrows at her, and Abby simply smiled at her.  
  
“I got Charlotte in on it,” she admitted, “After she heard about what we had planned, she made sure not to schedule you for any surgeries or appointments today, but promised to keep it a secret. So you don't have work today. Instead you are expected to spend the afternoon with all of us so that we can all celebrate your anniversary.”  
  
“I have no objections to this idea,” Lexa murmured, turning to Clarke and giving her a small smile, and after another moment of processing it all and a shake of her head, the blonde's lips curled into a matching smile.  
  
“Well alright then,” she finally said, meeting her wife's eyes, “Let the party begin!”

***

“Olivia, do not push your brother into the pool!” Octavia exclaimed, sending a warning look over to where her youngest daughter stood at the side of the pool. The young girl grinned sheepishly up at her mother as her brother spluttered to the surface, wiping water from his eyes.  
  
Bellamy, sitting beside Octavia, scoffed.  
  
“Yeah, you're one to talk,” he drawled, “Cause you've never pushed your own brother into that exact same pool. Hypocrite.”  
  
His sister shot a warning look at him, though the corners of her lips pulled up into a grin as she told him, “Watch it Bell, or I'll have to do it again.”  
  
Clarke grinned at the siblings, telling him, “Yeah Bellamy, that's one of those, 'do as I say, not as I do,' parent things.” He merely scoffed again, rolling his eyes at both of them, before turning to find his own daughter. River sat on the lawn with Parker and Spencer, the three kids playing some kind of game, and after the quick look he turned back to his friends.  
  
“Yeah well, how often does the 'do as I say, not as I do' thing actually work?” he asked them, raising his eyebrows. His eyes went right to his sister as he added, “Especially with your kids. You know I love them all, but all four of them is like a mini Octavia, and sometimes I just can't handle that. Growing up with just the one was bad enough for my health.”  
  
“Hey!” his sister exclaimed, her hand coming out and smacking his arm lightly, even as Clarke laughed. The brunette turned to shoot a glare at the blonde, and Clarke just shook her head.  
  
“No offense O, but I absolutely know what he means,” she told the other girl, “Nobody would ever have to guess that those four are your kids. Especially the twins: they most definitely have their mother's energy.”  
  
Octavia looked like she was about to refute that, but then her shoulders just slumped and she rolled her eyes as she admitted, “I know, and it's _exhausting_.”  
  
They both simply laughed at that, and after a moment even Octavia was grinning, her eyes shooting back to the pool where she found the twins, now both in the water and playing with Wyatt.  
  
As her laughter died down, Clarke looked around her. She and the Blake siblings were sitting in some lawn chairs, close enough by the pool so that they could keep an eye on the kids swimming, but not close enough to be crowding their space. At one of the picnic tables sat Raven, Tony on the grass in front of her and grinning every time he stood up to present her with a new blade of grass. Jason sat on the ground as well, his eyes almost never leaving his little brother, the little smile on his face almost non-existent, but for those who really knew him it was obvious. Beside Raven were Monty and Miller, their eyes also on the baby, though every now and then one or the both of them would look up to check on Spencer, still sitting a few yards away from them playing with River and Parker. As the blonde watched, Jasper and Maya moved to the table as well, Maya's attention moving to the baby while Jasper simply grinned at the adults. At the other picnic table she found Calvin and Emma, both in bathing suits now, but both seeming to be content just sitting and talking with each other. Also sitting there was Skylar, and Clarke wasn't at all surprised to see her youngest child with her face in a book, clearly blocking out everything else around her. She shook her head, grinning, and looked past the table, to where Jonas and Tris were coming down the deck, both also now in bathing suits. She watched as Jonas suddenly grinned and then picked Tris up, ran towards the pool, and then first threw her in and then jumped right after. Yeah, no, there was definitely nothing going on there. Nope.  
  
Clarke's attention continued to wander, finding Lincoln, Gustus and Abby all crowding around the grill on the deck, the three clearly trying to get lunch started. Sitting on the other side of the deck she found Anya, Ryder, Echo and Lexa, the four easily chatting about something. Clarke was willing to bet whatever it was was Marine related. Whenever the three ex-Grounders got together, that tended to be what the conversation turned to.  
  
Somehow Lexa must have felt her gaze on her, because a moment later the brunette looked up, meeting Clarke's eyes. The other woman shot a smile at her, her eyes clearly shining even from so far away, and Clarke simply returned the smile. She thought it was strange how even after all this time all it took was a smile from Lexa to get the butterflies churning in her stomach again, and yet that always seemed to be what happened. Even after fifteen years of marriage, Clarke still looked at her wife the same way she had when they first started dating. She hoped that would never change.  
  
Tearing her eyes from Lexa's, the blonde saw her mother move inside. She stood up, telling the siblings not to kill each other while she was gone, and then quickly moved up the deck, shooting Lexa another smile as she passed her, the brunette's hand sticking out and catching hers just briefly before she followed her mother inside. Once in the kitchen she turned to find her mother at the counter, loading rolls and condiments onto a large tray.  
  
“Hey, can I help with anything?” the blonde asked, stepping up beside her mother.  
  
Abby shot her a smile, telling her, “This is your party, you shouldn't help with anything. You should just relax.”  
  
She rolled her eyes slightly at the older woman, grinning as she replied, “Come on Mom, you know I don't relax well. What can I do?”  
  
Abby shook her head, but easily gave in, telling her, “Would you like to get the drinks together? There's soda and juice for the kids, and wine and beer for the adults. I have a cooler next to the table that you can put them all in.” Clarke looked, and sure enough a large cooler sat next to the table, waiting to be stocked.  
  
The blonde's grin only grew, saying, “Now that is definitely something I can do.” She moved to the fridge, opening the door and immediately seeing the sodas and juice on one shelf, and a couple of cases of beer on another. She grabbed the sodas first, setting them on the counter beside her, before doing the same with the juice, and then grabbed the beer. Opening the freezer door she found two bags of ice, and grabbed them both, carrying them over to the cooler. Quickly she opened the bags, having to hit them against the side of the cooler a couple of times to loosen the cubes, and then dumped them in, spreading them out. She then grabbed each end of the cooler, lifting it up and moving it closer to the counter with the drinks, and then began placing all of the drinks inside, pushing them in amongst the ice.  
  
As she worked, Clarke watched her mother gather paper plates, plastic silverware and napkins and add them to her tray. She then stepped around Clarke, digging into the fridge to pull out various dishes of salads: fruit salads, macaroni salads, potato salads, just all kinds of salads. Seeing it all, Clarke just shook her head.  
  
“I really can't believe you guys all did this,” she said, her tone telling her mother just how impressed she was. “I really had no idea any of this was happening.”  
  
Abby simply shot her a smile, telling her, “It was all your children's idea. Those three planned just about everything.”  
  
“That's just... amazing,” Clarke murmured, her voice trailing off as her gaze moved back up to the sign that still hung above the sliding doors. Everything about the sign screamed Calvin. Clarke would know those brush strokes anywhere. After all, she'd been the one to introduce him to art twelve years ago, back when he was an angry and scared little boy who didn't really know what was going on. She'd shown him art, showed him how to express himself with brush and pen and paint, and she had been nothing but thrilled when he had told them almost two years ago now that he wanted to go to school for art. Thinking about it, Clarke felt her lips curl up in a small smile.  
  
Abby looked back at her daughter when she noticed the blonde pause in her movements, and turned to see the younger woman looking up at the banner still above the doorway. Also looking up at it, Abby smiled.  
  
“Does it feel like it's really been fifteen years?” she asked her daughter, breaking through the blonde's thoughts.  
  
Clarke's smile grew even as she shrugged.  
  
“Sometimes,” she admitted, her gaze breaking away from the banner to move to her mother's face. “Other times it feels like it's been longer, and then there are times when it feels like it was just yesterday Lexa and I were at camp.”  
  
Abby returned the smile, telling her quietly, “I know what you mean.” Clarke's gaze was pulled to her mother's hands as Abby subconsciously twisted the wedding ring she still wore on her finger. Seeing it, a small pang pulled at the blonde's heart. The pain wasn't nearly as bad as it had once been, but little moments like that still caused it to flare up. Now, standing in the kitchen with her mother, the pain hit her a little harder even as she murmured, “I just wish Dad was here too. That would have made today perfect. I just... miss him.”  
  
Her mother moved over to her, wrapping her arms around her and pulling her close. Clarke closed her eyes as she felt the side of her mother's face press against hers, returning the tight hug.  
  
“Oh honey,” she heard her mother whisper, “I know. I miss him too. So much, sometimes.” They stood like that for a long moment, simply holding each other, but then Abby sighed and pulled back slightly so that she could look at Clarke. Carefully tucking a stray strand of hair behind her daughter's ear, she said, “But your father wouldn't want us to be sad today. He'd want us to be happy, and say we're here to celebrate.” She leaned down and kissed her daughter's forehead, an action she had done less and less as the years went by, but that still made them both feel better. Even being a mother now, it still felt good to Clarke, knowing that her own mother was still there to make her feel better whenever it was needed. So the blonde nodded, smiling slightly at Abby, and then pulled away, turning to put the last of the drinks into the cooler. Lastly she grabbed one of the bottles of wine from the counter along with the corkscrew beside it, and put both of them in the cooler before she grabbed each end. She groaned as she lifted the heavy cooler, her muscles screaming at her, but she managed to make her way over to the door, her mother following along behind her with her tray.  
  
Clarke had to turn slightly in order to step out the door, but as soon as she did she let the cooler drop to the floor, its weight too much for her to take it any farther. She heaved it to the side so that it sat against the wall, and then turned to go back inside to grab some of the salads her mother had pulled out of the refrigerator. As she stepped inside she heard someone follow her, and then she felt a pair of arms wrap around her middle. Grinning, the blonde turned around, her arms casually swinging up to rest on her wife's shoulders. Lexa smiled down at her, green eyes scanning her own, before she bent down and closed the small gap between them. Their lips pressed together easily, and as always Clarke's eyes fell closed even as she sighed against her wife. She felt the arms around her tighten, and her arms mirrored the small movement, and together they just stood inside the kitchen for a long moment, simply holding each other and kissing.  
  
Finally Lexa pulled back, the smile still on her face, and even as Clarke returned the look she asked the brunette, “What was that for?”  
  
Lexa merely shrugged, the movement pushing Clarke's arms up with it, before she easily replied, “No reason, really. I just did it because I could.”  
  
“Well you are more than welcome to do it again, any time,” the blonde informed her, her amusement clear in her tone, and Lexa's smile only grew before she leaned down and quickly pecked her wife's lips again.  
  
“Do not worry,” she told her, quick kisses interrupting her words every here and there, “I fully intend to take advantage of that as often as possible.” She felt Clarke laugh against her, and she grinned, before she pulled back finally, adding, “However, right now why don't I help you get this food outside? There are a number of people in the backyard, and I imagine they are all hungry.” The blonde nodded, and the two moved over to the counters, carefully grabbing all of the food spread out there. Together they brought the salads outside, making their way down the deck steps and to one of the picnic tables. Once all of the food was placed on the table, Lexa stayed there, uncovering each dish and getting each ready to be served, while Clarke headed back inside, quickly opening a cupboard and grabbing a number of wine glasses. As soon as she stepped back onto the deck Octavia saw her and moved over to help, and between the two of them they were quickly pouring wine into the glasses and handing it out to those they knew would want some. While they worked, Clarke's stomach began to make noise, her wonderful breakfast that morning clearly no longer satisfying her hunger, and so she cheered along with everyone else when Lincoln called out to suddenly, “Burgers and hot dogs are ready! Come eat!”  
  
The blonde couldn't help but laugh as the kids all abandoned whatever they were doing to run to the picnic tables, and suddenly the massive hoard of hungry kids swarmed the adults. Lincoln had been prepared though, so as the pile of hot dogs and burgers he had just set out on the table disappeared he was able to quickly replace it with a new pile before he added more food to the grill. Rather than attempt at the food then and risk losing a hand, Clarke just waited, taking a small sip of her wine as she moved over to Lexa. She pressed the beer she'd grabbed from the cooler into her wife's hand, shooting her a smile as she simply said, “Here.”  
  
Lexa looked down to find the cold beer being pressed into her hand, and she shot a look of gratitude to her wife.  
  
“Thanks,” she replied, quickly popping the cap off and taking a long sip of the beverage. She closed her eyes, smacking her lips slightly as she pulled the bottle from her mouth, ignoring the eye roll she received from the blonde as she took another sip from her glass of wine. She managed to stop herself from making a face at Clarke's wine; ever since she'd joined the Marines, Lexa had been a beer drinker, and very seldom drank wine. Clarke, on the other hand, wasn't a big fan of beer, and preferred wine over it every time. The two often teased each other for their choice in drink, and even now all it took was a grin and an eye roll to know what the other person was thinking.  
  
The two waited together until there was an opening around the food, and then they both grabbed plates which they were quick to fill. Once they both had all they wanted, they stepped back to make room for the next people in line, and made their way over to one of the lawn chairs. Clarke sat in one and then scooted over as far as she could, looking up at Lexa through her lashes as she asked, “Sit with me?”  
  
The corner of Lexa's lips curled up before she replied, “I would love to,” and with a little maneuvering and luck, they managed to sit together without spilling any food or drink. They ate, their bites interrupted only by light conversation as some of their friends came over to sit next to them, and before long both of their plates were empty and they were just leaning against each other, Clarke's head on Lexa's shoulder while the brunette's head leaned against the blonde's. They were perfectly content to sit there, fingers soon intertwining, even as they laughed along with their friends. Neither really moved until all three of their children came over, sitting on the grass by them, and then they both picked their heads up, smiling at the three of them.  
  
“So were you surprised?” Skylar asked, a small mischievous smile on her face.  
  
Clarke returned the smile, telling her, “Very surprised.”  
  
“Good,” the youngest of their kids said, giving her mothers a nod.  
  
Tris looked at her brother and sister, grinning as she told them, “We are good, guys. We are damn good.”  
  
“Hey, language,” Lexa said to her with a raise of her eyebrows, but then her lips curled into a smile as she added, “But yes, you are all damn good, indeed. Thank you for putting this all together.”  
  
“It wasn't a problem, Ma,” Cal assured her, giving her his own smile. “We just wanted you guys to have something special today. Fifteen years is a big deal.” He shrugged, then continued, “Besides, it was fun.” Both of his sisters nodded, agreeing. He looked up, and the two mothers noticed him make eye contact with Gustus, sitting over at one of the picnic tables. Gustus nodded and then got up, disappearing into the house, and as he did Calvin got up also, gesturing for his sisters to follow. “In fact, it's not over yet.”  
  
Both mothers raised their eyebrows before Clarke asked, “There's more? Really? I think you guys have done enough.”  
  
“This surprise isn't from us, it's from Nana and Bampa,” Skylar informed them, and then told them, “Just wait here.” After receiving a nod from both of them, the three kids got up and followed their grandfather into the house.  
  
Clarke and Lexa watched them going, wondering what was coming next, when Octavia, who was sitting in one of the lawn chairs beside them, pulled their attention back to the group.  
  
“And for my anniversary gift, Lincoln and I will be stealing both of your daughters tonight so that you two can have some alone time,” she informed them, smirking at them both. “I believe Calvin is staying here tonight, though he's more than welcome to come to our place also, so you two will have your house all to yourselves. Have fun.”  
  
Clarke grinned, her eyes moving over to meet Lexa's. She saw a spark in those green eyes, even as she joked, “The house all to ourselves? Whatever will we do with so much free time and no kids to watch?”  
  
“As if we don't all know exactly what you'll be doing,” Raven scoffed, leaning back against Ryder who sat beside her. For once they were baby-less, Tony busy entertaining some of the younger kids on the other side of the yard, Jason with them to keep a close eye on his little brother. “Even after fifteen years of marriage, I doubt anything has changed between you two in the sex department.”  
  
“Only that we don't have it nearly as often as we used to,” Clarke replied a little wistfully, and then her grin returned as she looked over at her wife once again. “Tonight, however...” She trailed off, not having to finish that thought, everybody there knowing exactly what the two of them would be doing that night.  
  
“And Heda, you do not have to worry about coming into the center tomorrow morning,” Ryder added, nodding to Lexa. “I will be running the counseling session so that you have no excuse to get out of bed. Instead you and Wanheda can simply relax.” When Clarke beamed at him, he merely nodded to her too.  
  
“Well I like that idea, personally,” Clarke told him, grinning. “Thanks Ryder.”  
  
Lexa smiled as well, but shook her head as she did so.  
  
“All of the soldiers know why it is I will not be there, don't they?” she asked, to which he just grinned. She groaned and then her face fell against the hand that wasn't still holding Clarke's. “Which means the next time I am in there all they will want to talk about is my sex life with my wife. Thank you, Ryder.”  
  
“You are very welcome, Heda,” he replied, his grin turning into a smirk as his eyes shone. Lexa merely groaned again before she muttered, “Raven is a terrible influence on you.”  
  
“I think you mean a _wonderful_ influence,” Raven argued, also grinning before she turned to give Ryder a kiss, which he happily returned.  
  
“No, I definitely mean terrible,” Lexa insisted, but she couldn't keep her own lips from curling up into a small smile. She felt Clarke nudge her, and turned her attention to the blonde.  
  
“I think it's a great idea, personally,” her wife said, her own eyes shining.  
  
“You are not the one who will have to try to evade an endless stream of questions about our sex life from a bunch of former soldiers,” she mumbled, but when Clarke nudged her again she couldn't help but smile.  
  
Before any of them could say anything else they all heard footsteps approaching, and the two women turned in their chair to find Abby, Gustus and their children walking over to them. Behind them trailed everyone else, but that was likely due to the large cake that Calvin carried with him. The two women tried to push themselves up to meet their parents but couldn't easily do so due to the tight squeeze of the chair and Gustus just smiled at them as he shook his head, telling them silently not to worry about it. So they sank back down into the chair, eyeing their parents curiously as they closed the space between them.  
  
“Clarke, Lexa,” Abby began, holding something in her arms. “Happy anniversary. In honor of fifteen years of marriage, Gustus and I got together and we put a little something together for you both.” She reached out, and Clarke took the large book from her hands.  
  
They quickly realized it was a photo album as Clarke set it against their laps. On the cover of the book it read “Fifteen Years of Marriage: Twenty-Seven Years of Love.” Beneath the writing was a picture from their first Christmas with all three of their children. They stood in front of their tree, both in holiday sweaters, and both with large smiles on their faces. Clarke held little Skylar, the two year old looking up at the blonde as though she had no idea what was going on, but smiling none-the-less. Calvin stood in front of Clarke, a large grin on his face as he held up the big case of art supplies he had just opened, and Tris stood beside him and in front of Lexa, a hockey stick in her hand as she also smiled at the camera, her smile just a bit smaller than Calvin's.  
  
“Hey, my first hockey stick!” the same girl now exclaimed, moving so that she could see over her mother's shoulder. “Man, that thing lasted forever.”  
  
“It lasted a year and a half before you broke it and needed a new one,” Lexa reminded her, sending a small smile to her daughter, “Which yes, is longer than any other has lasted, I think.” As Tris grinned at her, Clarke opened the album and her attention was drawn back to it.  
  
The first few pages were filled with pictures from high school, and they weren't the only ones in them. Their friends appeared in a number of them as well, and even their parents appeared in a few. Clarke's fingers ghosted over a picture with her father in it, her finger tips just managing not to actually touch the picture.  
  
“Grandpa Jake,” Calvin murmured, and Clarke looked up to meet his eyes.  
  
“How much do you remember about him?” she asked, and he shrugged.  
  
“Some,” he answered. His lips pulled into a small smile when he added, “He always made you laugh.”  
  
Clarke nodded, her gaze moving back down to the book as she said quietly, “Yeah, he was always really good at that.”  
  
She continued through the pages, and soon found pictures from their wedding. She flipped to a picture where baby Jonas stood on a chair, Lincoln holding his sides as the little boy grinned at the camera, wedding cake all over his face and down the front of his little suit. Emma swung an arm around her brother's neck, pulling him down as she crooned, “Aww, look at baby Jojo!”  
  
Many of them laughed, even as Jonas's cheeks turned a slight shade of pink.  
  
“I told you not to call me that,” he growled, pushing his sister away from him, but he couldn't help but smile even as he rolled his eyes.  
  
They continued on in the album, soon coming to pictures of first Calvin, and then Calvin, Tris and Skylar, and then they had reached the point where they had truly become a family. Lexa and Clarke looked at each picture, the memories from each taking over as they slowly flipped through the pages. The book held so many memories, so many times that they hoped to never forget, that soon both women felt tears building up in their eyes. They held their life together in their lap, and they felt that life surrounding them as everyone tried to lean in to get a better view. Finally they turned to the last page, a picture of them all at Calvin and Emma's high school graduation, and just about everyone standing there now smiled back at them from that picture.  
  
Finally closing the album, Clarke looked up at her mother and father-in-law, the tears obvious in her eyes but not falling down her face.  
  
“Thank you both,” she told them, the sincerity of her words clear in her tone. “Really, just... Thank you.”  
  
“We couldn't have gotten anything better,” Lexa added, also meeting their eyes, and her sincerity was just as obvious as Clarke's. “This gift,” and then she turned to her children and added, “And this day, it is all just perfect. So thank you all.”  
  
“Of course,” Gustus said, and Abby continued, “We all just love you two so much. You deserve it all.”  
  
They all remained there for a minute, the weight of the day and the moment hitting them all, and no one said anything. Finally however Tris stood up, breaking away from the group and pulling Calvin with her who still had the cake in his hands.  
  
“Alright, enough of this sentiment, I'm getting uncomfortable,” she stated, and then exclaimed, “Let's eat some cake!” Everyone laughed and exclaimed along with her, and then the entire group migrated over to the nearest picnic table where Calvin finally set the cake, and Gustus grabbed a knife to begin cutting it.  
  
Everybody except Clarke and Lexa. The two women remained where they sat for a moment longer, both looking at the album still resting on their laps. Lexa's hand moved back to Clarke's, once again wrapping her fingers around Clarke's own and gave the hand a little squeeze. Clarke looked up, meeting Lexa's gaze and when she did Lexa smiled softly at her.  
  
“Happy anniversary, Clarke,” she whispered. “May we have many, many more that are just as perfect as this.”  
  
Clarke returned the smile before she leaned forward, pressing a slow kiss to her wife's lips. As she pulled back she murmured, “Happy anniversary, Lexa. I love you even more now than I did fifteen years ago when I said I do.”  
  
Lexa pressed another kiss to Clarke's lips, her free hand moving to cup the blonde's cheek where her finger tips gently brushed against smooth skin. Pulling back, Lexa whispered, “I love you even more than I did when I said I do, too.”  
  
They smiled at each other, lost in the moment of just being together and so happy when their oldest daughter's voice broke in.  
  
“Mum, Ma, stop kissing and get over here, or I'm gonna eat your pieces of cake!”  
  
The two grinned, laughter bubbling from their lips, and finally they pulled themselves out of the chair and made their way over to the picnic table, joining the giant family neither had ever known they would have twenty-seven years ago when they sat together on a rock by a lake, both still too shy to tell the other how they felt. A lot had happened since that moment on what would become their rock, and they could only hope that the next twenty-seven years would be as amazing as the last twenty-seven had been. As they joined their family, both knew there was a pretty good chance they would be.


	2. Chapter Two - Calvin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After many months, here is the second chapter of "Continuum." Sorry about the long wait, but hopefully over the next couple of weeks I should be able to update weekly since I have the next couple of chapters of "Unbroken" already written. Enjoy!

**Twelve Years Earlier**

At first, the nudge against her shoulder wasn't enough to pull her nose out of the report open in front of her on her desk. She'd been going over it for weeks, making sure she had every detail just right for when she would go into court at the end of the month, to testify and speak towards her part in the arrest of the drug store shooting. She knew the defense would come at her with everything they had, so she was determined to be ready. The edges of her vision had begun to blur, the report the sole focus of her attention, so when a second, harder nudge pushed against her shoulder, Lexa had to blink a few times as she looked up, suddenly feeling as though she were being pulled back into reality. The noise of the police station suddenly bombarded her senses, and for a moment she didn't understand how she could have been able to drown out the countless phones ringing, the sounds of heavy footsteps and files being pushed across desks, and most of all the various detectives yelling back and forth at one another.  
  
“So you are still with us then,” her partner said, pulling his hand back from her shoulder and folding his arms over his chest. He leaned against her desk, quirking a half smile at her. “Thought we'd lost you to that report for a while there. You know if you stare at it much harder, you're gonna ware the ink off the page.”  
  
Lexa returned the half grin with one of her own, pushing the file a bit further up her desk as she turned in her chair, telling him, “Well then obviously this dump needs to get some pens that have better ink, doesn't it?”  
  
He scoffed, the sound rough, before he said, “Yeah right, as if this place could actually afford nice pens.” She murmured in agreement before turning back to the file in front of her, noticing him raise his eyebrows from the corner of his eyes. “Pens and all that aside, aren't you forgetting something, Woods?” he asked, leaning against her desk harder. She turned to him again, raising her eyebrows also.  
  
“Not that I'm aware of,” she replied, her tone mild, meeting his look even as he just shook his head, his lips pulling up even further. The motion and grin caused her to frown, her brow pulling down, before she asked him, “What is it King? What's so funny?”  
  
“Did you seriously forget your meeting today with the caseworker?” he asked, and then his grin only continued to grow. “Man, Clarke is gonna kill you. Woods, you're as good as dead.”  
  
Lexa felt herself roll her eyes as she leaned back in her chair. “Of course I didn't forget,” she informed him, “How could I forget something like that?”  
  
“I don't know, but you did,” he replied, raising his eyebrows again. “You're gonna be late, and Clarke is actually going to kill you.”  
  
“I am not,” the brunette told him, holding her head a little higher. “I have plenty of time left before-” As she went to finish the sentence, she glanced up at the clock hanging on the far wall of the squad room, and immediately they widened. “Shit!” she exclaimed, jumping up out of her chair. “Shit, I am going to be late! How the hell did so much time go by? I swear I was only looking at that report for an hour, tops!”  
  
Her partner just continued to grin as she hurriedly grabbed the report and stuffed it back in the top drawer of her desk, being far less careful with it than she normally would have.  
  
“Wrong, you had your nose stuck in that report all morning, and you barely looked up from it once,” he informed her, and when she threw a hasty glare at him, he simply met it with an amused expression.  
  
“Why didn't you tell me what time it was sooner!” she all but growled, ripping her blazer from the back of her chair and roughly pushing her arms through the sleeves. He just shrugged, still not backing down under her glare, as he answered, “I figured you were paying attention to the time. I mean, it is a pretty big meeting you got today: I didn't think you'd be able to think of anything else.”  
  
“That's why I was trying to focus on the report,” she retorted, eyes quickly scanning the surface of her desk as she tried to make sure she wasn't leaving anything behind. “I was using it to distract myself because I knew the meeting with the caseworker was all I was really going to be able to think of.”  
  
“Well it looks like you distracted yourself a little too well, huh?” he replied, and all she wanted to do was wipe that insufferable grin from his face. As partners went, he was a good one, but every now and then she kind of wanted to smack him. With a spear.  
  
She was checking her belt, feeling the badge already clipped to her side and reholstering her weapon after pulling it out of a drawer in her desk, when she heard him let out a quiet laugh. She looked up, shooting him a questioning look as she grabbed her keys from her desk, and he just told her, “Looks like your wife didn't trust you to pay attention to the time either.” His words confusing her, Lexa followed his line of sight, and then felt her own smile form when she realized what he was referring to. Walking into the room and already looking right at her, was her wife.  
  
Wife. The word only made Lexa's smile grow. She had thought that after three years of marriage she would have gotten used to the title, but the word still made the butterflies stir in her stomach, just as they still did whenever she looked at Clarke. It continued to surprise her every day at how much she could possibly love the blonde, and every night she went to bed knowing she loved her more than she had when she woke up that morning. Her life with Clarke was nothing short of wonderful, and she never stopped thanking the universe for bringing them together.  
  
“Roan,” Clarke greeted as she walked to her wife's desk, giving the man a large smile. He simply returned it, giving the woman a nod, and said, “Clarke.” He jerked his thumb towards Lexa, telling the blonde, “She forgot, but I was just kicking her butt to get leaving.”  
  
“I did not forget,” Lexa argued, shooting a glare at her partner that promised pain at a later date. Looking back at her wife's raised eyebrows and partial smirk, she added, “I simply lost track of time. I was just leaving though.”  
  
“I had a feeling you would,” Clarke told her, her tone a little playful. “I know how you get when you're working. So I thought I'd come and meet you, and we can ride over together.” She held her hand out, Lexa's smile only growing as she took the offered limb, and then looked back to the brunette's partner. “Thanks for kicking her butt, Roan, but I'll take over now.” Lexa's brow pulled down into an indignant scowl, even as her partner's smirk only grew. He lowered his head, giving the blonde a little nod, and simply replied, “My pleasure. Always happy to help you kick your wife's ass, Clarke.” The blonde just grinned at him while Lexa shot him a murderous glare, and then the blonde pulled on their clasped hands.  
  
“Come on,” she said, turning her full attention back to her wife, “We're gonna be late if we don't leave now.”  
  
Lexa followed as the blonde pulled her away from her desk and towards the door, but muttered darkly, “I didn't forget. And Roan couldn't kick my ass even if he tried.” Her eyes flickered over to meet blue as Clarke turned to her, flashing her a small smirk.  
  
“I know babe,” the blonde informed her, leaning over a little closer to her. “You didn't forget, and you're way too tough for him. Besides,” she added, her eyebrows raising slightly, “I'd kick his ass if he tried to kick yours: that pretty butt is all mine.” As if to accentuate the fact, she let their conjoined hands move to Lexa's back, the back of her hand brushing against the brunette's butt briefly, and Lexa's eyes widened as she felt heat start to rush to her face.  
  
“Clarke,” she hissed, keeping her voice down as her eyes darted around them. “I _work_ here, remember? No inappropriate touching!” She couldn't be sure, but she thought maybe a couple of the guys they were walking by were trying to hold in their grins and very purposefully not looking at the two women.  
  
The blonde seemed unfazed, even as she let their hands fall between them once again, her fingers tightening momentarily around the other woman's.  
  
“As if none of them have ever seen a woman grab another woman's ass before,” she replied, rolling her eyes a little, but at the look her wife shot her she held up her free hand. “Okay,” she gave in, “No inappropriate touching at your work.”  
  
“Thank you,” Lexa simply said, giving her a small nod as she held her head up a little higher, but when Clarke just continued to smile at her she couldn't help but let the corners of her own lips turn up as well.  
  
They made their way out of the building and into the parking lot, walking right up to Clarke's car and leaving Lexa's in the parking lot to grab on the way back home. With little talking, they climbed into the vehicle, their hands once again coming together once they were all buckled and the car had been started, and then they were off.  
  
As they drove the thirty minute drive, both women felt their heart beats picking up, their nerves and excitement getting the better of them now that they were actually on their way. The grip they each held on the other only seemed to increase the closer they got, and both knew that the other was feeling the exact same way as their smiles grew and nerves buzzed.  
  
It had been almost a year ago that they had decided it was time to start thinking about expanding their family. They'd been married for two years and settled into that married life. Not long after leaving the Marines and getting married, Lexa had decided to go into law enforcement, still feeling that it was her duty to protect those around her, even if it wasn't in a militaristic fashion anymore. She'd quickly risen to the position of detective, and had spent nearly two and a half years doing her best to keep their streets as free of crime as she could.  
  
While Lexa spent her workdays in and around the Polaris Police Station, Clarke spent her time at Mount Memorial Hospital. After far too many years to care to count, she'd finally finished up all her schooling and gotten a job as a doctor and surgeon, oddly enough at the exact same hospital her mother still worked at. There she'd become Dr. Woods, joking with her patients that Dr. Griffin-Woods was far too long of a name to be known by, and that she couldn't be Dr. Griffin since that was her mother. While Lexa worked to try to prevent bad things from happening, she worked to help others who'd been hurt when they did. Both were happy with their work, and certainly happy with their marriage, but now they were ready to be more than just Mrs. and Mrs. Griffin-Woods: now they were ready to be mothers too.  
  
At first they'd debated whether or not they wanted to go the in vitro fertilization route, and honestly, the answer had been a pretty resounding yes on both their parts, both for the same reason: Lexa dreamed about holding a baby that looked back at her with Clarke's blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes, and Clarke dreamed about holding one with Lexa's stubborn chin and proud green eyes. The obvious problem with that became which of them would go through with the pregnancy and carry the child. Clarke didn't particularly want to, not right then: she'd only been able to be a doctor and surgeon for a short time, and didn't have any desire to have to take enough time off for maternity leave so soon. Lexa had solidly put her foot down as well: there was no way she was going to endanger their child's life before it was even out of the womb, and while they could live off of just Clarke's salary alone, the idea of sitting around at home all day without any purpose made her antsy just thinking about it. Plus then there was the question of finding the right sperm donor, deciding when the best time to do the procedure would be, and a plethora of other questions that neither particularly wanted to have to think about.  
  
The other, more obvious choice, had become adoption. They'd started out doing the research, and the moment they became fully aware of just how many children were out there looking for homes, any other option had been completely taken off the table. They had a home already, and decided that if they could provide a child who didn't already have a family with one, well, then that's what they were going to do.  
  
So they began the process of applying to adopt a child. It had taken longer than they first believed it would, but they'd been able to work closely with their caseworker, a friendly woman named Angie who'd helped them along the way, and finally they could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Almost two months ago she'd told them about Amy, a little three year old girl whose parents had died in a car crash, and the moment they'd seen her picture and heard her story, the two women had fallen in love with her. Now they were on their way to spend the afternoon with her, their third such interaction with the little girl, and in just a couple of weeks they'd finally be able to take her home. Neither of them could be more excited, and the closer they got to Amy's current foster home, the more that excitement grew.  
  
That excitement tapered a bit the moment they pulled into the driveway of the foster home, seeing Angie's car already parked along the curb and Angie herself standing outside of it. The woman's face was pulled down, the concerned expression clear enough to see even from still inside the car, and suddenly both women felt their moods shift.  
  
“What is it?” Clarke asked their caseworker, the moment they stepped out of the car.  
  
“I've been trying to call you both for the past twenty minutes,” Angie told them, her phone still in her hand and clutched tightly. “Why don't you have your cell phones on?”  
  
“Mine died while I was at work and I didn't have time to charge it before I needed to leave,” Clarke replied, trying to control the worry from leaking into her voice. She looked over to her wife, seeing Lexa patting at her pants pockets, a confused look on the brunette's face before realization hit her.  
  
“I must have left mine in my desk at work,” she explained, eyes slowly moving back and forth from Clarke to Angie. “I was kind of in a hurry to leave. But why have you been trying to call us?” She turned her attention to the caseworker, her wife doing the same, and both saw the guilt flash across her face.  
  
“I wanted to be able to give you the heads up before you got here,” she told them, and then shook her head, letting out a small sigh. When she looked at them again, they could both see the disappointment in her eyes. “I got a call about a half hour ago: it turns out Amy's grandmother has changed her mind. She wants custody after all.”  
  
Clarke's jaw dropped open, her eyes widening, and Lexa felt her heart skip a beat as her throat went dry. Her ears rang a little, and she couldn't help but hope she'd heard incorrectly.  
  
“But... But she didn't want custody,” Clarke stammered, the shock evident in her voice. “She said that weeks ago, months! We've been, we've been planning this for so long, can, can she do that?”  
  
“I'm afraid so,” Angie replied, regret coloring her tone. “As a direct family member with no prior history, she had every right to ask for custody of her granddaughter, even if she'd said up til now that she didn't want it. We can try to fight it, but I have to be honest with you both: the likelihood of us winning is very, very slim. If the adoption had already been completed, then there'd have been a good chance, but since it's still only in process and the court hasn't officially signed custody over to you...”  
  
“We'd never win,” Lexa murmured, fighting to keep her tone even. Over the past three years, she'd seen enough custody battles due to her job to know the truth of the situation. She felt Clarke step closer to her, and she wrapped her arm around the blonde's waist, knowing that they both needed the contact at the moment. The excitement she'd felt all day had all but dissipated, disappointment and regret replacing it.  
  
Angie nodded, her brow still pulled down as she looked at them both. “I am so sorry,” she told them quietly. “I know how much you already thought of Amy as part of the family. But.” She turned, opening her car door behind her and pulling some files she'd placed on the seat. “If you would like, we can see if we can find another possible match for you both.” Her eyes scanned their faces as she said, “I know it hurts, and I know you're both disappointed, but I also know there's another kid out there who will be thrilled to become part of your family. If you're still interested in adopting, of course. I know this all must feel like a shock, and I completely understand if you need time to process and decide if you want to try again-”  
  
“No,” Clarke interrupted her, her voice sharp, as though she hadn't meant to say the word quite so loudly. She turned slightly, meeting her wife's eyes, and after a momentary silent conversation between them, she looked back at Angie. “No, we definitely still want to adopt. It... It is disappointing, for sure, but we still want a child, and if we have to go back to step one, then okay.” Lexa nodded, a silent confirmation to the words, and Angie just smiled at them.  
  
“Wonderful,” she beamed, clearly thrilled that they weren't giving up after the set back. “If you have time and would like to, my afternoon is free, and we can go back to my office and take a look at some files? I was thinking about it on my way over here, and I have a couple of children in mind that I think might fit very nicely with you both.”  
  
Both women nodded, agreeing, but before they moved to return to their cars Lexa said, “Before we go, do you think it would be alright if I went inside for just a moment? I'd like to use the restroom before we make the drive back to your office.”  
  
“Of course,” Angie agreed, turning towards the house behind them. “Susan was expecting you both anyway. I've already explained the situation to her, but I'm sure you're more than welcome to go inside for a moment.”  
  
“Could we go say goodbye to Amy?” Clarke asked, her face perking up slightly, but when Angie bit her lip and grimaced, it fell again.  
  
“I'm afraid she isn't here,” the woman replied, meeting the blonde's eyes. “When I got the call about her grandmother, a social worker was already on the way to take Amy to her so that the two could bond a little before she moves in with her. I'm so very sorry.”  
  
Clarke nodded, unable to completely hide the dejected pull of her lips, but Lexa's fingers tightened momentarily around her wife's. She looked up, meeting green eyes, and then she felt Lexa pull her close, arms wrapping around her waist.  
  
“It'll all work out,” the brunette murmured as she pressed lightly against her wife. “We'll figure this all out, and soon we'll have an amazing little kid running around and making a mess of our house.” The blonde couldn't help but let out a little laugh that barely contained any humor at all as she shook her head, returning her wife's hold.  
  
“You're right,” she finally agreed, pulling away a little, and then shot a small smile up at the taller woman. “We've been through worse things than this before and got through it: we'll get through this too.” Lexa returned her smile and then bent down, pressing a quick kiss to her wife's lips before she broke away.  
  
“I'll be right back,” she told the two of them, and then headed up the driveway towards the house. Reaching the front door, it opened before she could knock or ring the bell, Susan standing in the doorway, and she wondered momentarily if the woman had been watching them. The foster mother's face was pulled down, sympathy etched along her face as she said, “Lexa. I'm so sorry.”  
  
The brunette shrugged before replying, “As long as Amy's happy and safe, I guess that's all that matters.” Susan nodded, agreeing, but from the look the other woman continued to give her, it was clear she knew that Lexa was more affected than she cared to show. “Would you mind if I use your restroom?” she asked, ignoring the look, and Susan quickly stepped out of the way.  
  
“Of course,” she answered, ushering the brunette inside, “Go right ahead. You know where it is.”  
  
“Thank you,” Lexa told her, and then she headed down the hallway, remembering from her previous two visits where she needed to go.  
  
Washing her hands once she had finished, Lexa looked at her reflection in the mirror in front of her and let out the sigh she'd been holding in. Her heart weighed heavy in her chest, disappointment pulling at her. She'd only known Amy for a few months, had only really met her twice, but she'd already begun to think of herself as the girl's mother: having to let go of those thoughts was going to be difficult. At the same time though, she knew her own feelings didn't matter in this case: all that mattered was what was best for Amy, and even though she was disappointed, she could understand that living with her grandmother would be what was best.  
  
She let out a second sigh and then took in a long breath, trying to steady herself. Allowing one last glance at her reflection, she did her best to wipe her feelings away, hiding the disappointment in a place where few people would ever be able to see it. She was nothing if not a master at controlling her feelings, and the only person who knew her well enough to know how to get them out of her she'd married three years ago. She'd let them out when she and Clarke were back home, when they would be able to mourn the loss together and away from prying eyes, but for the moment she stole them away.  
  
Leaving the bathroom, Lexa turned and almost ran into someone. A little boy stood outside the door, not far away, and he seemed surprised to see her. Her eyebrow raised in slight confusion: she knew that Amy wasn't the only foster child that Susan had with her at the moment, but she'd never seen this little boy before. She let her confusion wipe away, instead giving him a small smile. He was young, probably somewhere around the age of five, with floppy brown hair that hung over his ears and almost covered his eyes, and he clutched a stuffed dog in a tight grip. Most striking was the large bruise that blossomed from his right eye.  
  
“Hi,” Lexa said to him softly, still smiling at him. He didn't say anything, just continued to stare at her, not shifting in his stance and not looking away. She lowered herself down so that she was closer to his eye level, and pointed to his eye. “That's quite the shiner you have there: I've gotten a couple of black eyes in my day, but I don't think any of mine have ever looked quite as good as that.” Still the boy didn't say anything, just continuing to meet her eyes, his lower lip pushed out just slightly further than his upper. His brow was pulled down, as though he was expecting her to challenge him or yell at him or something, and she got the sense that if she did, he wouldn't back down. He seemed tough and stubborn, in a way that no child should have to be, and she held out her hand to him. “My name's Lexa,” she told him, letting her tone soften even more as her smile just grew a little. “What's yours?” Still he said nothing, and the only indication he'd heard what she said came from the way he shifted as his eyes trailed down to the offered hand. He didn't take it, didn't even loosen his grip on the stuffed dog, and then his eyes met hers again. “You're right,” she just said to him, nodding as her hand fell back down, “You shouldn't talk to strangers. Good answer.” She stood back up, her hands bracing themselves against her thighs to help push herself up, and then she pointed at his eye again. “You should probably talk to Susan about getting something to put on that eye, though. I bet it hurts, and some ice might make it feel better.” When he still didn't respond, she just shot him another smile and then waved, before turning and walking away.  
  
Susan was in her kitchen when Lexa found her, washing some dishes.  
  
“Hey, Susan?” she asked, and the woman turned to her, raising an eyebrow as she gave Lexa a smile. “The little boy? I don't know his name, but he has a black eye.”  
  
“I know,” the woman sighed, her shoulders slumping as she turned back to the sink. “That's Calvin: he's been with me just for two weeks now, and it's the second time he's come home from school bruised. I tried to get him to tell me what happened but he won't, and I tried to get him to ice the eye, but he doesn't seem to want to do that either.”  
  
“Oh,” Lexa just said, her brow turned down. She turned, looking back down the hall she'd just come from, but could no longer see the boy. Something about him tugged at her, and part of her wanted to go back to him and see if she could get him to talk to her. Before she could ask Susan anymore about him however, they heard a quick knock on the front door, and then it opened, and they both turned to find Clarke sticking her head in the doorway.  
  
“Lexa?” she called out, before she turned and saw them both standing in the kitchen. She stepped into the house, giving Susan only a partially forced smile, before she said, “Hi Susan.”  
  
“Hello Clarke,” the woman replied, giving her a sympathetic smile in return. “I'm so sorry about what's happened.”  
  
The blonde forced her lips up further, but Lexa could easily see the pain in her eyes even as she told the woman, “Hey, we gotta do what's best for Amy, right?” Seeing the hurt, Lexa quickly made her way over to her wife, slipping her hand into the blonde's once again and giving it a slight squeeze. Clarke's gaze shifted to her, her lips easing into a more believable smile as she returned the grip.  
  
“Of course,” Susan agreed, nodding, “But that doesn't mean it's an easy thing to accept.”  
  
“No,” Clarke sighed, her free hand rubbing briefly at her forehead, “No, it doesn't. But it'll all work out in the end.” The other woman just shot her another smile which she returned, before returning her attention back to her wife. “You ready?” she asked, and Lexa nodded.  
  
“Yes,” she said, and then gave Susan a nod before telling her, “Thank you, Susan, and good luck with everything.”  
  
“Good luck to you both as well,” the woman replied, and Clarke thanked her for both of them before the couple left the house, pulling the door shut behind them.  
  
“Would you like me to drive, Clarke?” Lexa asked her as they walked down the driveway, nodding to Angie as the woman got in her car, seeing them ready to leave. The blonde shook her head, pulling her keys out of her pocket as they reached the car, telling her wife, “No, that's okay. I want to drive: it'll serve as a good distraction.” Lexa flashed her another small smile before pulling her close once again and planting another soft kiss to the blonde's lips.  
  
“We'll get through this,” she reminded her, the words quiet as she breathed them against the other woman's lips.  
  
“I know,” Clarke murmured, pressing herself a little closer to her wife, and Lexa could hear the pain in her voice. “We will, but it still hurts.”  
  
“It does,” Lexa agreed, allowing her own grief to break through her controlled tone momentarily, and she saw Clarke flash her a look. It was the blonde's turn to press forward, peppering a number of soft kisses to the brunette's lips, and the small motions managed to turn the corners of her lips up. She leaned into the blonde, feeling her emotions settle back into place with Clarke there to help her anchor them down. They stood that way just for another moment, silently supporting each other, before Clarke stepped back.  
  
“Come on,” she just said, still not looking away from her love's face. “Let's go see what other kids are out there for us to fall in love with.” Lexa simply nodded, and the two moved to the car, quickly getting in and then following Angie back to her office.  
  
During the car ride, the two remained quiet, both thinking their own thoughts. Clarke tried to pay attention to the road, but thoughts of Amy and the family they'd almost had kept creeping into her mind no matter how hard she tried to keep them away. Lexa had similar thoughts, the three year old's bright smile flashing across her mind's eye over and over, but every now and then another image would appear of a little boy with a black eye simply staring back at her.  
  
Before long they were pulling into the parking lot of Angie's office building, and then they were following the caseworker inside, moving straight to the office they'd become all too familiar with over the past year. As they entered, Angie closed the door behind them, and moved over to the filing cabinets that were standing in the corner of the room while the two women made their way over to the chairs sitting on one side of the woman's desk. Angie hemmed and hawed, muttering to herself as she opened the top drawer to one of the filing cabinets, shuffling through the various files neatly sorted away in it. She pulled a number out, balancing them in the crook of her arm, and then finally closed the drawer back up before making her way to her own chair on the far side of the desk. As she sat down, carefully laying the neat stack of files in front of her, she didn't fail to notice that the other two women had once again taken each others hands.  
  
“So,” she began, carefully arranging the files in front of her so that she could easily see each. “I've got five different children in mind for the two of you, thinking about everything we've already gone over. Again, I know this is probably going to be hard, since you both had your hearts set on Amy, but I'm sure there is another child who will just be the perfect addition to your family, and I know we're going to figure out just who that child is. I thought that maybe we could go through each of these files together, and then maybe the two of you would like some time to think about it? And if none of these five feel right to you, I'm sure we can find another: there are many, many children looking for a good home, and I am sure any of them would be happy to make yours that home.”  
  
Clarke nodded, a determined expression appearing on her face as she leaned forward in her chair, and Lexa simply remained where she was, meeting Angie's eyes and giving her the smallest of nods. Angie smiled at them both, and then opened the first file. “Alright, so the first child I have in mind is a four year old named Michelle...”  
  
Together they went over each file, Angie telling them about each of the five children, and Clarke appeared to be focusing on her every word, her heart aching a little and wanting to be able to take each of the five children home. Lexa only appeared to be politely listening, almost as though she had something else on her mind, but Angie didn't know her well enough to realize that she wasn't as focused as she appeared to be. Her wife did though, and after they finished talking about the fifth child, a little boy named James, Clarke turned to her.  
  
“What are you thinking about, Lexa?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at the brunette, and the other woman looked at her, not surprised at having been caught by her wife. Her own brow pulled down a bit, before she turned back to Angie.  
  
“At Susan's,” she began, her voice trailing off for a moment before she continued. “There was a little boy there. Calvin, I think she said his name was.”  
  
“Mm, Calvin Richards,” Angie acknowledged, her expression pulling down at the thought of the boy. She couldn't help but let out a small sigh at the thought of him, even as she leaned back in her chair.  
  
“He had a black eye,” Lexa added, and the caseworker let out a humorless chuckle.  
  
“I'm not at all surprised,” she told the couple, her head rolling back so she could stare up at the ceiling. “Calvin has been... a challenge, let's just say.”  
  
Clarke noticed something flash across her wife's face, the brunette's lips turning down almost imperceptibly. She could tell there was something about this boy she'd met that held her wife's attention, though she didn't know what. Looking back to the caseworker, Clarke asked her, “Why's that?”  
  
Angie let out another, louder sigh as she rubbed her temples, her eyes closing. A moment later she pushed herself up from her chair and slowly made her way back over to her filing cabinets, opening another of its drawers. “Calvin hasn't had an easy childhood,” she began, her fingers quickly running through the files in front of her before she pulled one out with the boy's name on it. She turned, walking back over to her desk, saying, “He's been in the foster system for about two years already. Susan's is his fifth foster home; he's had three families want to adopt him and then back out for one reason or another.”  
  
“Why?” Lexa asked, her brow pulling down even further. “He looked like a sweet kid, aside from the black eye.”  
  
“That's just it though,” Angie informed them, sitting back down in her chair and setting Calvin's file in front of her. “Calvin's a fighter: every time he gets placed in a new place, new situation, his first reaction is to punch and kick and hit. It's what he was taught, I'm afraid.” When both of their eyebrows rose, she couldn't help but sigh again. “His father was abusive: mentally and verbally to his mother, and then when his young son tried to step in, it became physical. Calvin was finally taken away and the father arrested when he broke two of Calvin's ribs and his arm. The mother signed away her rights, for one reason or another, and Calvin was placed in the foster system. He was four.”  
  
Clarke felt the rage building up inside her chest, almost burning her with its force. Bile rose in the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down as she did her fury. As a doctor and surgeon, she'd dealt with cases of physical abuse before in both children and adults alike, and just the thought of this little boy having lived his entire life never feeling safe, never feeling protected like all children had the right to be, caused an anger to form inside her that she had never felt before. Glancing over at her wife, she say the same fury in Lexa, hidden away but for the tight clenching of her jaw and the way her eyes pierced into Angie's. She didn't have to ask: she already knew exactly what the brunette was thinking, so she just lifted her head, meeting the caseworker's eyes and asked, “What do we have to do to adopt him?”  
  
One hand went up, the caseworker's fingers rubbing once again against her temple. She looked at both of the women sitting on the other side of her desk, seeing the determined expressions that had taken over their faces. She met both looks before slowly telling them, “I don't usually pair children like Calvin up with first timers, especially when they don't already have children and thus experience with children. Calvin and children like him are more than just a handful, and often times the couples have a difficult time handling it. Especially with Calvin's coping mechanism that he's developed.”  
  
“Coping mechanism?” Clarke asked, the determination breaking just slightly as her curiosity took over. Lexa's expression didn't change.  
  
“Yes,” Angie replied, her eyes turning back to the boy's file for a moment before looking up and once again meeting their looks. “After the second family backed out of adopting him, he stopped talking. At first he simply didn't talk often, but for weeks, almost months even, no one's heard him say much of anything. He's closed himself off, shutting others out and not letting anyone get past the walls he's built. He uses his fists when he's angry or scared, because that's what he's been taught, and since he was removed from his family, every time he's started to get attached to someone they've left him or he's been taken away from them. You can understand why he'd feel the need to build those walls, and breaking them down is going to be a long, grueling challenge.”  
  
Her words were followed by a short silence, both women thinking over what she'd said, and then she watched as they turned to each other. Their eyes met, scanning each other, and Angie could practically see the silent conversation going back and forth between them. A moment later she saw Lexa nod, her expression no less determined than it had been, perhaps now simply more so, and Clarke's lips twitch up. Their hands visibly tightened against each other, and then they turned back to the caseworker.  
  
“We've never let a challenge stop us before,” Clarke simply said, her eyes now practically shining as she leaned back in her chair. Her lips just turned up even further, a stubborn look forming along them, before she repeated, “What do we have to do to adopt him?”  
  
Angie studied them both for a moment, her eyes flickering back and forth between them. She shouldn't do this: as stubborn as she knew them both to be, they were still young, still looking into adopting their first child, no experience already under their belts. But they were looking at her with such fierce determination, such stubborn certainty that this is what they wanted, that she felt herself giving in much sooner than she knew she should. So she let out another sigh, this one louder than any before, and leaned forward, clasping her hands in front of her on her desk. “If you're sure this is what you want...” she said, trailing off, and Lexa nodded.  
  
“We are sure,” she answered, not breaking eye contact with the social worker, and Angie let out a deep breath.  
  
“Okay then,” she finally gave in, her hands unclasping as she picked Calvin's file back up. “Here's what we're going to do...”

***

_One Month Later_

Neither of the two women let their nerves show as they heard the knock on the door. For the past hour, they had spent their time nervously shuffling from the kitchen to the hallway, listening for the knock that would change their lives forever. Now as the low sound of that very knock echoed lightly down the hallway, all either could do was grip the others hand a little tighter before they stepped forward, each aware of the way their hearts thudded against their chests. Nevertheless, they couldn't stop their lips from curling up as Clarke reached out, pulling the front door open.  
  
“Hello,” Angie said to them brightly, beaming a large smile at them. “We've finally made it.”  
  
“Come in,” Clarke told her, her eyes only meeting the caseworker's for a brief moment before they fell to the little boy standing just a step behind her. She saw the suitcase standing beside him, his fingers clenched around its handle, and tore her eyes away from him to see Angie holding another bag.  
  
“Do you need help bringing anything in?” Lexa asked, seeing the same thing Clarke did, her eyes flickering back to the car parked in their driveway. “I can go grab anything that's left in the car.”  
  
“No need,” Angie replied, waving her free hand in front of her as they both stood back, welcoming the two inside. She walked in, and after a moment Calvin followed, simply looking forward and not meeting any of their eyes. The caseworker's gaze shifted from the boy to the two women, easily reading both the nerves and excitement in their faces. “This is everything, so another trip isn't necessary.”  
  
As Clarke closed the door behind the, Lexa opened her mouth to say something, but then got cut off as she felt something bump against her leg. Looking down, she found their dog Pauna pushing her way past her mothers, clearly more interested in inspecting their guests. She barely gave Angie any notice at all, but when she noticed Calvin, Lexa felt the dog's body start to quiver, the little nub of a tail she had left wagging as hard as it could and making the rest of her move along with it. She left the brunette's side, closing the distance between boy and dog, and then she was sniffing along Calvin's legs and stomach. She grinned at him, her head tilting back just slightly so she could look at him, and when he held out his hand to her hesitantly, she began licking his fingers. Lexa noticed the tips of his lips curl up just slightly, the biggest reaction she'd seen from him yet, and felt her own lips turn up at it.  
  
Kneeling down, Lexa's hand went to the dog's back, and the Boxer/Pitbull mix looked back at her, her tail only wagging harder before she returned her attention to the little boy. The brunette looked up at the boy through her lashes, giving him a soft smile.  
  
“Do you remember Pauna, Calvin?” she asked him. “You two met when you visited a week ago.” He nodded, the most he ever gave for a response, and Lexa just let her lips pull up farther. “You can pet her, if you want,” she continued, still meeting the boy's eyes. They were brown, just a few shades lighter than his hair, and even now she still saw a stubbornness in them that pushed at her. “In fact, she might not leave you alone until you do: she really loves being petted, and she really really loves scratches.” To demonstrate, Lexa began running her fingers over the dog's rump, one of her favorite places to be scratched, and Pauna's tongue fell from the side of her mouth, her doggy grin only growing. She watched as Calvin hesitantly reached up, one hand going to the dog's head, before he began to lightly scratch behind what remained of her right ear. Pauna began panting lightly, the perfect picture of being in doggy heaven, before she tilted her head, once again trying to cover the boy's hand in kisses.  
  
With the movement, Calvin let go of his suitcase and brought his other hand up, the dog shifting to give those fingers an equal number of kisses, as he continued to scratch the dog behind her ear. His eyes shifted to the tattered ear, before he looked ahead again, meeting the brunette's gaze. Seeing the look, Lexa didn't need him to talk to know what he was thinking.  
  
“Pauna here didn't have the easiest life for a while, either,” she answered the silent question, her hand still on the dog's back. Hearing her name, the dog turned slightly, once again looking at her, and she returned the dog's happy smile, her own not quite as large. “She grew up around some not so nice people for awhile,” she continued, turning her attention back to the little boy still looking at her. He was watching her, refusing to look away, and she let her smile soften. “But now she's away from them, and as long as she gets her daily scratches she seems to be pretty happy. Isn't that right, girl?” The question was directed at the dog, and hearing it Pauna turned so that she could butt her head against Lexa's chest, almost knocking her over. She gave the woman a quick kiss to the chin before the brunette could pull away, and then turned back to the boy again as her mother stood once again.  
  
As her wife stood, Clarke reached out, easily slipping her hand into the brunette's. She and Angie had watched the entire interaction, not wanting to interrupt, but now she couldn't help but shoot a little smile over to her love, getting her own smile in return. She let her attention shift, even as she gently squeezed on her wife's hand, before looking back down at Calvin, the boy once again scratching Pauna behind the ear.  
  
“Would you like to bring your stuff up to your room, Calvin?” she asked him, her tone soft. His eyes darted up to her, and she simply gave him a little smile. “You can get your things unpacked, and get yourself situated, so maybe you feel a little more comfortable. I know I always feel a little better when I have a space of my own I can go to.” The boy just shrugged, his eyes breaking away from hers and returning to the dog in front of him, even as he reached out and once again grasped the handle to his luggage.  
  
“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea, Clarke,” Angie answered for him as she let one arm gently fall around his shoulders. Calvin made no indication that he noticed the arm, neither sinking into it or shrugging away from it. “Why don't we do that, and then after Calvin's settled I can get out of your hair so that the three of you can spend some time together.”  
  
“We were thinking of getting pizza or something for dinner,” Clarke told her, even as she led the way to the staircase at the side of the hallway. Angie followed her, Calvin and Pauna following her, and Lexa brought up the rear as they all began making their way up to the second floor. “If you'd like, we'd certainly be happy to have you stay and eat with us.”  
  
“No, thank you though,” Angie replied, giving the blonde woman a smile as she turned to her. “I think the three of you should spend your first dinner together as a family just the three of you. Thank you, though.” Clarke simply nodded, returning her smile, before she led the way down the hall, opening one of the doors along the side once she got to it. She stepped in first, holding the door open so that everyone else could follow.  
  
Calvin couldn't help himself: the moment he stepped in the room, he looked around, taking in every detail as quickly as he could. It was a simple room, a bed against one wall, a bookshelf along another, a closet door not far from the bed, and a set of drawers across from it. A few toys already rested along the floor, and the light blue of the walls made it feel more open. It was large enough to hold a lot more than what was currently inside, certainly large enough to hold much more than what he owned, and honestly the size of it made him shrink back just a little. It had been a long time since he'd had any place to call his own, and no matter what these two women said, he still wasn't convinced that this really was his. He didn't say anything though, just stood there, one hand clasped tightly around his suitcase while the other remained buried in the dog's fur.  
  
“I know it's kind of plain right now,” Clarke said, peering around the room before turning back to him and flashing him another small smile. “But we thought you might like it better if you got to help decorate it. Lexa and I were thinking that maybe this weekend we could all go shopping, and you could pick out some things to make it feel more like it's yours.”  
  
The boy didn't say anything in response, instead just shrugging again, and then he finally stepped forward, dragging his suitcase along with him. He lifted it up and placed it on the bed, unzipping it. He knew how this went: unpack, find a place for his few things, and in a couple of weeks he'd just pack it all up again and move to the next house. That's just how his life went, no matter what these two women told him.  
  
Angie followed along behind him, gently placing the bag she carried down beside his suitcase, and then gently touched his shoulder, drawing the boy's attention to her.  
  
“Why don't you start to unpack your things, Calvin?” she asked him, giving him a small smile. “While you do that, I'm gonna go talk to Clarke and Lexa out in the hallway, and then I have to get going. I'll see you again soon though, and you remember my number, right?” He nodded, meeting her look with a blank expression of his own. He'd heard this speech before also. Her grip on his shoulder tightened for just a moment, trying to be encouraging, and she continued, “Good. You know you can always call me if you need anything. But I think Clarke and Lexa are gonna take really really good care of you, and Pauna is too.” At her name, the dog, still standing beside him, bumped his side with her head, as though she too were trying to encourage him. He focused on the dog and not Angie, his fingers scratching along her head as she grinned at him once again.  
  
With a good-bye that wasn't returned, Angie turned away from the boy, meeting the eyes of the other two women, and cocked her head, silently asking them to follow her into the hall. They did, both throwing another look to the boy standing with the dog before following along behind her. Once in the hallway, Angie closed the door so that only a sliver of it remained open, and then took a few steps away from the room, Clarke and Lexa still following.  
  
“I'm going to head out,” she told them, her eyes moving to look at both of them. “But if you two need help at any point, please don't hesitate to reach out either. I know this is going to be difficult for a while, but the more comfortable he gets here, the easier it should get. Hopefully, at least. I'll be back in a week to see how he's settling in and how you both are doing, and to let you know if there's been any news on a court date. With any luck, before too long the date will be set, and you two will be able to sign the papers and officially adopt him.”  
  
“Thank you, Angie,” Clarke murmured, her voice soft but clearly sincere. “For everything you've done for us, just thank you. Calvin wouldn't be a part of our lives now if it weren't for you.”  
  
“Difficult or not, we're more than thrilled to have him,” Lexa added, her voice nearly matching her wife's. “Thank you.”  
  
The caseworker just smiled at them, returning their thanks with a nod. She'd been hesitant at first, in agreeing to match Calvin up with them, but she could see their love for him already, could tell that they would never give up on the little boy who so many others had already given up on, and she felt like maybe, finally, Calvin had found a home.  
  
“Of course,” she just said, her smile growing. “You two deserve a wonderful child, and Calvin deserves a set of parents who are going to care deeply for him. This will work; the three of you belong together.” Both women simply smiled at her, a little bit of relief and encouragement from her words leaking into their expressions, and she just returned the look before she turned around. Just before she began to make her descent back down the stairs, she looked over her shoulder, shooting another encouraging smile at them, and told them, “I will see all three of you in a week.”  
  
The two women watched the caseworker disappear down the stairs, their hearts still beating heavily in their chests. Their nerves intensified now that they were finally alone with the boy who was going to be their son, but Angie's words worked to give them that little boost of confidence they both needed. Turning, Clarke slipped her hand to her wife's once again, meeting green eyes that she'd never wanted to look away from.  
  
“Come on,” she just said, tugging lightly on Lexa's hand and leading the way back to Calvin's room, “Let's go see if Calvin would like any help unpacking.”

***

Lexa paced back and forth in their bedroom, even as her fingers worked to nimbly pull her hair from its usual braids. Her eyes kept darting to the door, as though she could see through it and down the hall and into the room where Calvin had gone to sleep only a few hours ago. Their evening together had been both the longest and shortest one of Lexa's life, the slight awkwardness in the air never really leaving as she and Clarke worked to try to make sure Calvin felt comfortable in his new home. She worried about him, afraid that he might be scared in a new, strange environment, and had a hard time thinking about anything other than him even as she tried to get ready for bed.  
  
“Hey,” she heard Clarke call out from their bed, and turned to find blue eyes following her movements. She met those eyes, saw the way the blonde's lips curled up slightly as she said, “Relax, Lexa: he's fine.”  
  
“But what if he's not?” she asked, worriedly pulling her hair over one shoulder and running her fingers through it. She couldn't help but look at the door again as she added, “What if he's laying in there, afraid or anxious, and we're in here, just ignoring it? He must be terrified, being in a place he's never been before.”  
  
“He's been in a lot of places he's never been before,” Clarke reminded her, and Lexa just shot her a look. “By now I'm sure he's figured out a way to cope with that, and if not, we told him that he's more than welcome to come wake us up if he needs anything.”  
  
The brunette scoffed, nearly rolling her eyes as she mumbled, “Like he'd do that.” Her eyes flickered back to her wife, telling her, “I think it's pretty clear he isn't comfortable coming to us for anything, and it'll probably be a while until that changes.”  
  
“Can you blame him?” Clarke asked her, and watched as her wife's expression dropped before she shook her head. “It'll be a while, sure, but we just have to show him that we aren't like the people he's met before. We just have to prove to him that this is real, that we love him and want him to be a part of our family, and that we're going to take care of him. It'll take time, but eventually he'll realize that this is the last time he's ever going to feel uncomfortable in a new house, ever again.”  
  
Lexa knew her wife was right, but couldn't help it as a frustrated sigh escaped her lips. She understood that this was all going to take time, not just for Calvin to get used to, but for both of them as well, but she didn't like it. She wanted that boy who had been through so much already to feel safe and loved, wanted him to know that they were going to take care of him, and didn't like that she didn't have the power to help him feel that already. Clarke was right, but that didn't change the fact that she wished she wasn't. Once again her gaze moved to the bedroom door, and once again she had to fight herself from going out and checking on him. She wrapped her arms in front of her, hands rubbing along her bare skin, knowing the goosebumps along her arms had everything to do with her worry and nothing to do with the tank top she wore.  
  
Clarke watched her wife, saw her once again glance at their door, and then reached her hand out. “Hey,” she called out again, Lexa's attention turning back to her and seeing the hand held out to her. “Come here,” she just said, gesturing for her to come over, and after a final glance at the door, Lexa did as she was told. Reaching the bed, she took the blonde's hand and let her wife pull her to the bed until she straddled the blonde's lap. Clarke tilted her head up, easily closing the distance between them, and began planting small, comforting kisses to the brunette's lips.  
  
“Do,” she asked, every few words said between another kiss, “You know. How much. I love it. When you put. Your hair over. Your shoulder like that?” She felt the other woman's lips turn up in a grin, felt it as Lexa began to shake her head lightly, and then let her lips trail down her wife's jaw as her hands moved up to play with the hair still slung over Lexa's shoulder. She left a few gentle nips against the brunette's jaw and neck, running her tongue against the skin to soothe it after the small bites, and grinned as she both felt and heard the sigh that escaped her wife's lips. Pulling back slightly, she let her arms drop, wrapping around the brunette's waist as she looked up to look into her wife's face. Lexa's lips were still curled up, her eyes bright even as she raised an eyebrow at the blonde.  
  
“Nice distraction,” she informed her, and Clarke just grinned before moving forward again and pressing a longer, deeper kiss to her wife's lips. They remained together for a long moment, both falling into the kiss, before Clarke pulled away, pressing her forehead to her wife's. Eyes opening, they searched each others eyes, allowing the silence to settle around them just for a moment.  
  
“Calvin's gonna be fine, Lexa,” Clarke finally murmured softly, her expression gentle but serious. “He just needs some time to realize that this is really what it looks like, that we're really here for him. He's gonna be fine, and we're gonna be fine, because we have each other, and now we have him. We're a family now, and we're all going to take care of each other.”  
  
Lexa let out another sigh, this one heavier than the last, but nodded.  
  
“You're right,” she simply agreed, “He just needs some time. It'll all work out.”  
  
“Exactly,” Clarke replied with a smile, eyes shining up at her wife. “It'll all work out. Now come here so that I can kiss you again.” Lexa's lips curled up, and then she leaned forward, her hands reaching up to wrap themselves in blonde hair as her lips once again were captured by her wife's. 

***

For a long while, Clarke laid in bed, listening as Lexa's breathing evened out in the darkness around them. For more than an hour she simply laid there, thoughts swirling around her head, her mind too clouded to allow her to get the rest she knew she needed. She wanted to fall asleep, but no matter how hard she tried to clear her mind, thoughts of the little boy just down the hall kept fighting for her attention. Finally she gave up fighting it, and let out a silent sigh.  
  
Moving slowly, she peeled the covers away from her body, pushing herself up as she did so. Her legs swung over the side of the bed, and she stood up, moving as carefully as she could so as not to wake up her sleeping wife. Quietly she made her way across their room, quickly opening the door and pulling it closed behind her as she stepped out into the hall. Even in the dark she knew where the door to Calvin's room was and made her way towards it. It was open just an inch or two, the orange glow of the nightlight they'd gotten for him in case he was afraid of the dark or needed to get up in the middle of the night shining through the small crack. She stopped outside it, peering through the crack, and felt herself smile at what she saw.  
  
The glow of the nightlight was dim, just bright enough to make out the silhouettes of the figures on the bed beside it. Calvin was turned towards it, and Clarke could see that his eyes were closed, his chest rising evenly in his sleep. Beside him laid Pauna, the dog not leaving his side even then, clearly happier with being in the boy's bed than downstairs in her own. As she shifted, making an almost inaudible noise against the carpet below her, she saw a pair of eyes at the boy's feet open, blinking sluggishly to look at her. Panther, their cat and Pauna's close companion, stared back at her, his tail flicking momentarily before stilling once again, eyes closing.  
  
For a moment, Clarke just stood there, the smile tugging at her lips and her heart as she looked at the little boy sleeping. Maybe it was weird, watching him like this, but seeing Calvin look so peaceful, so relaxed, made her heart ache in the best way. He looked content, in that moment of sleep, and she couldn't help but hope that it wouldn't be long until he felt that comfortable even when he was awake.  
  
She was so focused on the sight before her that when a pair of arms wrapped around her middle and a body pressed against her back, Clarke jumped. She hadn't heard anything, hadn't heard it when Lexa had opened their door or quietly made her way down the hallway, so when she suddenly felt her wife press against her, her heart jumped to her throat. She managed to keep her surprise quiet, not letting out any sound, but as her hands moved down to the ones resting against her waist she whispered, “You scared me!”  
  
Clarke felt Lexa's chin press lightly against her shoulder, the brunette's face moving to rest against hers, before she replied quietly, “Sorry, wasn't my intention.” Already over it, Clarke just gave her a little noise of affirmation, her attention once again returning to the figures in the room before them. She felt the arms around her waist tighten before Lexa whispered against her ear, “Aren't we supposed to be letting him sleep?”  
  
“He is sleeping,” the blonde replied quickly, her tone just as quiet, and she could practically feel her wife raising her eyebrows at her.  
  
“You know what I mean,” Lexa murmured. “Aren't we supposed to be giving him his space and not worrying?” The other woman was quiet for a moment against her, and Lexa didn't think she was going to answer, but then the silence broke.  
  
“He's just... so small,” Clarke finally said, and Lexa could hear the pain in her wife's voice as it nearly broke. “He's so young, and he's been through so much. I just want him to feel safe. Everything that's happened to him... I want him to know none of it was his fault, that he didn't deserve it. I want him to know, to understand, that we're gonna protect him. Take care of him.” She shifted, not pulling out of her wife's hold, but turned so that she could meet her eyes. In just the dim glow of the nightlight, Lexa's eyes looked black, but even so Clarke could easily read the understanding in them. She gripped the brunette's arms, holding them against her, before she whispered, “I just love him, Lexa. I love him so much, and can't stand the thought of anything else happening to him.” She watched as Lexa scanned her face, reading every emotion there, before her lips curled up. The brunette pressed her lips gently against her cheek, the touch as encouraging as it was intimate.  
  
“I love him also,” she murmured, the words barely more than a breath against the blonde's skin. “I love him, and we are never going to let anything else happen to him. He's our son now, and we are going to love him and take care of him, even when he doesn't want us to. We're a family, and someday he'll see that too.”  
  
Clarke's eyes closed, trying to picture when that someday would be, but then they opened again as she nodded. Almost perfectly in sync, they turned their heads again, both peering into the room, and continued to stand there for another few minutes, watching their son sleep. It would take time, they knew, before Calvin was comfortable with them. It would take time for him to feel like this place was a home and that they were a family, and in that time they would face any number of challenges. They knew this, but they were determined to see this through, determined to work at it until this little boy whose life had been one difficulty after the other felt safe and loved and finally at home.  
  
It was going to be the biggest challenge they had ever faced, but if anyone could do it, it was Clarke and Lexa Griffin-Woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have a little bit of background about Calvin! You'll be getting more information about him and Tris and Skylar as the story progresses. I have to be honest with you guys: I don't really know much about the foster system or adoption. I've done some research, but am fully aware it's perfectly possible that there are inaccuracies in this chapter and there will probably be more to come, and I apologize for them.
> 
> Also, I haven't decided for sure yet, but I don't think this story is necessarily going to go in chronological order. I think I'm going to be jumping around in the timeline, going back and forth from when the kids are little to when they're older, mainly so that if I get ideas as I go I don't have to worry about putting them in order and maybe missing out on something. Also also, as this story continues, I'd like to open it up to suggestions for chapters. If there is something you really want to know or read about any of the characters (not just restricted to the Griffin-Woods family, but any of them), please just give me the suggestion in the reviews. If the idea fits in with what I already have planned for this storyline and the characters, and if I can think of a good plot line that will do the request justice, then I will try to write a chapter about it. I can't promise that I'll be able to do every suggestion, especially depending on how many I get, but I will take every thought into consideration. Thanks all, and I hope you enjoyed the second chapter of "Continuum!"


	3. Chapter Three - Calvin Cont'd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After far too long of a wait, here's chapter three! I promise, there will never be that long of a wait between chapters again!

“Hey Charlotte, what's up? What do you have for me now?” Clarke asked as she stepped up to the receptionist's desk, her focus still on the file in her hands. Finishing the last line, she nodded to herself as she flipped the file closed, tucking it back into the crook of her elbow. Only then did she look up, and the moment she did her smile wavered. Charlotte's lips were pursed, an almost wince on her face; Clarke had been working with her long enough now to know that whatever she was about to hear, it wasn't going to be good.  
  
“The school called,” the receptionist finally said, grabbing at the small notebook in front of her and tearing off the top page. Holding it out to the blonde, she gave the doctor a half-hearted smile as she told her, “It sounds like Calvin got into another fight. They were looking for someone to go pick him up.”  
  
Clarke's heart sank even as it began to race in her chest, her pulse vibrating while she quickly grabbed the piece of paper out of Charlotte's hand. “When did they call? Is Calvin alright?” she asked quickly, the questions pouring out of her even as her eyes darted to the small piece of paper. She scanned it quickly, reading nothing more than the simple, scrawled message: _School called; C. got into another fight. Principal needs someone to come get him. Already called Lexa, no answer._  
  
“I think so, yeah. They called about forty-five minutes ago, while you were checking in on the Hartford woman,” Charlotte answered, referring to the twenty-three year old female who'd needed some serious surgery three days ago after getting into a motorcycle accident. Clarke, the trauma surgeon who'd been on call at the time, had managed to save her and get her all patched up, but she'd still be in the hospital for another day or two so that they could keep an eye on her, and it had been Clarke's turn to check in on her.  
  
With a quick flick of her eyes, Clarke looked up at the clock hanging on the wall behind Charlotte's reception desk and nearly swore. Her shift didn't end for another hour, and she still had three more patients she needed to check on. Luckily she wasn't the surgeon on call at the moment, or even the back up, but there was almost no way she would be able to leave early. Still, she had a few minutes, which meant she could at least call the school to check in and make sure Calvin was alright. She knew her heart wouldn't stop pounding until she did, so without another word she grabbed her phone from her pocket, unlocked it, and quickly dialed the school's number, a number she'd memorized easily already. Nodding to Charlotte, she stepped away from the desk, putting her free hand over her other ear to try to drown out the many medleys of hospital noises, and leaned against the far wall.  
  
The phone rang three times before anyone picked it up.  
  
“Polaris Elementary School,” she heard a voice say the moment the line clicked. “Yeah, hi, this is Dr. Griffin-Woods,” Clarke immediately told the woman on the other end of the line, turning towards the wall to help drown out everything else. Her mouth felt a little dry, but it didn't slow her down as she added, “I got a message about my son, Calvin Griffin-Woods. Something about a fight. Is he alright?” She tried to keep the panic out of her voice, but knew she hadn't been entirely successful when the woman replied quickly, “Yes yes, he's fine Dr. Griffin-Woods. He's got a couple of bruises from the fight, but nothing terrible. The nurse checked him out and assured us he's fine.”  
  
“Can I talk to him?” Clarke asked, her grip on her phone only getting tighter as the woman talked, and she could feel the edges of her cellphone biting into her palm. Her grip didn't loosen, only seemed to get stronger as the woman informed her, “When we weren't able to get a hold of either you or your wife, we called the third emergency contact on file, Mr. Gustus Woods. He was able to come by and pick Calvin up. They left about twenty minutes ago.”  
  
Clarke couldn't help but let out a silent sigh of relief, knowing that Gustus had Calvin. With their hectic work schedules, she and Lexa had known they would need someone else on file as a contact if something ever happened, and already it'd proven a good choice to choose the brunette's father. Unfortunately, this was not the first time he'd been called to pick the little boy up from school.  
  
Before Clarke could get too relieved, she heard the woman speaking again.  
  
“Principal Pike would like you to still come by the school, however,” she told the blonde, her tone telling her this was in no way a request. “He would like to speak to you about your son's behavior and violent tendencies. Today, if at all possible.”  
  
Just managing to hold in her sigh, Clarke nodded, even as two fingers pressed forcefully against her forehead, trying to delay the headache she knew would be coming on. Knowing her nod couldn't be seen, she just said, “I should be finished working in a little over an hour. I'll swing by the school on my way by.”  
  
“Thank you, Dr. Griffin-Woods,” the secretary replied, “I'll inform the principal; he'll be expecting you.”  
  
“Thanks,” Clarke just said, and then waited to hear the beep at the other end of the line before hanging up. Stuffing her phone back into her pocket, she pressed the spot between her eyebrows one more time, before turning around.  
  
To her surprise, she found her mother standing in front of the reception desk, talking with Charlotte as she waited for her to get off the phone. Seeing her turn, Abby smiled at the receptionist, ending whatever conversation they'd been having, and then made her way over to her daughter, concern pulling at her brow.  
  
“Charlotte just told me the school called,” she said by way of explanation, eyes scanning the blonde's face. “Is Calvin alright?” Her daughter let out a long sigh, even as she nodded slowly.  
  
“He got into another fight, but yeah, it sounds like he's alright,” she answered, moving back over to the reception desk. Charlotte already had her next patient file ready and waiting for her, and when Clarke took it from her, the younger woman just gave her an encouraging smile, clearly trying to help as best she could. Clarke tried to return the smile, but knew it didn't quite make it. Turning, she opened the file and looked down at it without really seeing it, and began walking down the hall towards the room she knew her next patient waited for her in. As she moved, her mother fell into step beside her, clearly waiting to be told more. Clarke sighed again as she snapped the file shut, shaking her head. “The school called because they needed someone to pick him up, but sounds like they were able to reach Gustus.”  
  
“No Lexa?” her mother asked, raising her brow, and Clarke shook her head again. “She must not have been able to answer her phone,” the blonde replied, trying to ignore the gnawing worry that took over her gut. She knew Lexa loved her job, knew that it seemed to give her wife purpose, but it terrified her. Four years ago she'd been ecstatic when Lexa finally left the Marines, though even just thinking back on the events that had caused her to leave nearly put Clarke into a panic, but after they got married and the brunette informed her what career she wanted to pursue as a civilian, Clarke's gut had once again turned to lead. She hadn't tried to stop her, hadn't put up any kind of a fight because she knew Lexa and knew that the other woman needed to feel like she was doing something important, but she still wished that something didn't have to involve carrying a gun around and always putting herself into dangerous situations. Every time a person was wheeled in on a stretcher and Clarke heard the words “gunshot wound,” her heart would get stuck in her throat, terrified for an instant that she'd look down to see her wife. So far it'd yet to happen, but that didn't keep the worry from stemming through her every time those two little words rang out around her.  
  
“Well good then, I'm glad Gustus was able to pick him up,” her mother said, nodding once and cutting through Clarke's sudden debilitating fear. The blonde mirrored the nod, before telling her, “Yeah, but I still have to go to the school after I'm done here. Principal Pike wants to have a talk.” Her mother gave her a sympathetic look as they stopped just outside one of the hospital rooms, Clarke's patient waiting for her inside.  
  
“You'll get through all this, Clarke,” Abby promised her, grabbing her daughter's hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I know it's still hard right now, but you'll find a way. Calvin will get comfortable with us all, and you and Lexa can handle anything that comes your way until then. And you know your father and Gustus and I and all your friends are here to help you every step of the way.”  
  
“I know,” Clarke replied even as she let out a long breath. Feeling the pressure increase against her hand, she looked up, meeting her mother's eyes, and gave her a small smile. “I know,” she repeated, more sure this time. “Thanks, Mom.”  
  
Abby's lips simply curled up, her eyes bright as she merely replied, “Any time, Sweetie.” She nodded towards the door just in front of them, and squeezed Clarke's hand one last time before letting it drop. “Now go check on your patient, Dr. Woods. And call me tonight; I want to know how the talk with Principal Pike goes.”  
  
“I will,” Clarke promised, before flashing her mother another smile. She straightened up, grabbing the file back from the crook of her arm, and turned towards the door. She would get through checking in with her next three patients and whatever else her job had to throw at her for the next hour, and then she'd deal with her son's principal. And then, finally, she'd be able to go check on her son.  
  
Taking a deep breath and letting out a silent wish for the next hour or two to go by quickly, Clarke stepped forward. 

***

Stepping through the front doors, Clarke felt like she was being transported back in time. She remembered this hallway, these lockers, vaguely. Years and years ago - and years, it sometimes felt like – she'd gone to this school, walked down these hallways and learned in these classrooms. She'd eaten in this cafeteria, had some of these teachers, and coming back now only made her feel old. Stopping just outside the principal's office, Clarke looked down the hallway and found the water fountain she'd split her lip on and made Wells cry when he saw her bleeding, the distant memory managing to tug her lips into a small smile. Shaking her head to try to get herself to focus, she knocked on the doorway, poking her head in.  
  
“Hello?” she asked, nervously standing just outside the office. She hadn't spent a whole lot of time in here as a kid, but the posters on the wall and chipped paint along the doorway all seemed the same, as though no time had gone by. “I'm Clarke Griffin-Woods, here to talk to Principal Pike about my son Calvin?”  
  
A woman sitting at the desk facing the doorway looked up from her computer, flashing her a quick smile before gesturing for her to come into the room. Clarke did so, moving a little stiffly, but took one of the seats in front of the desk when the woman gestured at it.  
  
“Hello, Dr. Griffin-Woods,” the secretary said. Clarke's eyes flashed down at the little name plaque at the front of the desk, reading the name _Mrs. Meyers_ and storing it away in case she needed to remember it. Mrs. Meyers, an older woman with hair already gone white and wrinkles sketched into her skin, gave her another smile before telling her, “Principal Pike is just finishing up a few things, but I'll let him know you're here. I'm sure he'll want to speak with you right away.”  
  
“Thank you,” Clarke told her, and the woman gave her another smile before standing up and walking to the back of the room. She opened another door, poking her head through the small space, and Clarke heard her say, “Mr. Pike, Clarke Griffin-Woods is here to speak with you.” The blonde could hear that something was said in response but not exactly what, and then Mrs. Meyers stepped back and looked at her, gesturing for her to stand up. “He'll see you now,” she informed the younger woman, and Clarke nodded, standing up and moving over towards the door. Mrs. Meyers held it open for her, and then closed it behind her as she stepped into the room.  
  
Stepping inside, Clarke took a quick sweep of the space, and then focused on the people around the desk at the far side of the small room. Two chairs sat in front of the desk, one empty and the other already occupied, and Clarke's eyes widened slightly as she saw Miss Martin, Calvin's kindergarten teacher, turn around and give her a warm smile. Mr. Pike, sitting behind the desk, also gave her a smile, but the motion didn't quite reach his eyes.  
  
“Miss Griffin,” he called, as though he were talking to an old friend, “Please, come in and take a seat.”  
  
“Actually, it's Dr. Griffin-Woods,” Clarke replied, her tone just shy of being clipped, “Or Dr. Woods, for short.”  
  
“Of course,” Pike answered, his head nodding as though it were on a bauble. “It's just hard getting used to the change after knowing you as Miss Griffin for so long.”  
  
Like the school, Pike too was familiar, a memory from a long time ago. Back then he hadn't been a principal, and he hadn't known her in elementary school; he'd been one of her middle school teachers, and then in her senior year he'd moved up to the high school, so he'd known her and Lexa and the rest of their crew for years. Clarke hadn't liked him or disliked him, hadn't thought much about him then or in any of the years since then, but here they were, now Principal Pike and Dr. Woods, and Clarke could feel the nostalgia and memories rushing through her. It's what she got for starting a family in the town she grew up in, she figured.  
  
“Hello again, Dr. Woods,” Miss Martin said to her, her hand extending forwards, and Clarke accepted it with a quick shake. She returned the teacher's smile, feeling a little better from its sincerity, and replied, “Hello again, Miss Martin.” She and Lexa had both met the teacher a little over two months ago when Calvin had started going to school here, and both had agreed that they liked her as they walked away from the meeting.  
  
Releasing the teacher's hand, Clarke's gaze shifted from her to the man behind the desk. Her hand moving back to her lap, she lifted her chin up, meeting the principal's eyes as she just said, “I was told you wanted to talk about my son.”  
  
Pike leaned back in his chair, his smile falling away from his lips. His brow settled, a stubbornness creeping into his expression even as he continued to meet the blonde's eyes. “Yes,” he replied, shifting further back in his chair. “Calvin has caused quite a stir at this school. Two months, and already he's started three fights with other students.”  
  
“Actually,” Miss Martin tried to put in, but Pike raised his hand, cutting her off without even looking at her. Instead he didn't turn away from Clarke, raising his eyebrows as he continued, “I'm sure you remember the rules here: we don't allow for any kind of fighting. Period. If Calvin cannot adhere to those rules, I'm afraid he will not be welcome in this school.”  
  
Clarke had to fight to keep herself from stiffening at his tone or clenching her teeth. Instead she sat a little straighter in her chair, raising her eyebrows and trying to keep her voice even as she told him, “If you remember, Mr. Pike, we talked about Calvin's situation before he started class here. He's had a tough time, and he's still getting used to all the changes around him. While I agree that violence certainly is never the answer, it's his defense mechanism. My wife and I are trying to help him with it, but when he's under a lot of stress or feeling overwhelmed, it's what he knows.”  
  
“The rules are the rules, and we have them for a reason, Miss Griffin,” Pike simply put in, raising both hands when Clarke began to protest. “My apologies: Dr. Woods. Here at this school we treat every student equally and don't make any exceptions. I expect Calvin to adhere to our rules, just as I expect every other student to. I'm aware of his history, but inside these walls, he is the same as every other student, and will be held to the same expectations. That means no more fighting, or we'll have to take a closer look as to whether or not he belongs here. Is that understood?”  
  
Clarke had to physically bite her tongue to keep from saying anything. She wanted to argue, to tell him that Calvin wasn't like every other student at this school. Most of the other children didn't understand pain in the way her son did. They hadn't had their own father breaking their ribs or their mother just standing by and letting it happen. They hadn't been shuffled from one place to another for almost two years straight, forced to be around complete strangers until those strangers decided they didn't want them anymore. These other children had been loved and protected for all of their short lives and had never had to fight to protect themselves. Calvin had, and the fact that this man thought it was okay to just brush that to the side and dare compare him to everyone else infuriated the blonde, but in this she had little power, so she just nodded stiffly, trying not to let her fury show.  
  
She thought maybe Pike's warning was all she was going to get, but then the man leaned back further in his chair, resting his head against its back, and began to fiddle absentmindedly with a pen on his desk, still not looking away from the doctor.  
  
“And then there's the matter of his class participation,” he said with a drawl, quirking one eyebrow, and out of the corner of her eye Clarke saw Miss Martin frown, her head tilting slightly to the side. “It's my understanding that Calvin never participates in activities, never tries to answer any questions or talk with the other kids.”  
  
“That's because he doesn't speak at all,” the blonde reminded him slowly, her fingernails digging into her hands as she tried to control the anger that she could feel slowly building in her gut. “If you remember, we talked about that too before he started here. One of his coping mechanism is his selective mutism.” She'd researched it months ago, before Calvin had even moved in with them, and knew that he wouldn't speak until he was ready to. He might never speak, and as much as it hurt her to think about that possibility, she would never push him into it, never try to force him out of his silence.  
  
Pike, it seemed, didn't have the same view.  
  
“He's expected to participate, just like every other student,” the principal informed her, with a quick shake of his head. “He doesn't just get to sit back and not be part of the class because he doesn't want to be there or doing the work.”  
  
“Actually, Calvin does participate,” Miss Martin pushed in, finally speaking up without getting cut off. Pike raised his eyebrows at her, something in his expression changing as his lips pursed, but Clarke ignored him. She turned to the teacher, and Miss Martin gave her a small smile. “Really, Calvin is a very smart kid,” she told the mother, handing over a couple of pieces of paper. On one, Clarke found some simple math problems clearly designed for a kindergartener, and on the other she saw a list of names spelled out in shaky hand-writing. The blonde's lips quirked when she read not just Calvin's name, but her own, Lexa's and even Pauna's and Panther's. “He does very well with all of the work I give him, never refuses to do it like some kids. He picks up on things very quickly, and though he doesn't speak, it's clear he understands what we're learning. He's a very bright little boy.”  
  
Clarke flashed the teacher a smile, but that smile almost immediately disappeared as Pike spoke up once again.  
  
“Be that as it may, we can't allow any leeway with Calvin just because he doesn't want to speak,” he argued, leaning forwards and folding his hands on the desk, his grip clearly tight. “If other children see him getting any kind of special treatment, soon we'll have entire classrooms that think they don't have to talk either. He's expected to participate, just like everyone else.”  
  
Clarke had had enough. Stiffly, an expression she'd picked up from her wife falling over her face, she stood up, staring down at the man still seated in front of her. One hand still held the papers, her grip only gentle so that she wouldn't damage them, while the other curled into a tight fist, both hands all but shaking.  
  
“I think we've talked enough,” she nearly spat, only just managing to control the tone of her voice. She spoke quietly, but knew her anger bit out with every word. “I will talk to Calvin about the fighting, because I do agree with you there, it needs to stop. However, don't you dare try to tell me or my son how he's allowed to cope with everything he's had to deal with in his short lifetime. He can speak or not speak, whichever he wants, and I will not let you or anyone else try to tell him otherwise. If I find out that you or any teacher or administrator here has been trying to force him to speak, I will be back, and you will not like it when I return. You may or may not remember this about me, Mr. Pike, but I can be very stubborn when I need to be, and I can be very, very aggressive, and I don't need to resort to my fists to resolve that aggression. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go home and make sure my son is okay.”  
  
Without waiting for any kind of response from the man sitting a little dumbfounded behind the desk, Clarke spun on her heel and all but stomped out of his office and then out of the school, not returning Mrs. Meyer's, “Have a wonderful evening,” as she passed her. Fuming, she exited the room and then shoved the front door open, stepping back out into the parking lot and just managing to keep herself from screaming as she made her way over to her car.  
  
“Dr. Woods!” she heard behind her, and for a second she closed her eyes, trying to breathe deeply through her nose to get her anger under control. Turning around, she saw Miss Martin hurriedly walking towards her, the door to the school swinging shut behind her. Clarke stood where she was, lifting an eyebrow as she waited for the woman to catch up, and tried to keep a handle on her anger. Stopping once she'd caught up, the teacher met her look and frowned. “I'm sorry,” she just said, surprising the blonde. “You were absolutely right in there: Principal Pike had no right to talk against Calvin's choice not to speak. I want to make sure you realize that I would never, never force a child to drop their coping mechanism just because it's believed he needs to be like everyone else. Your son will always be safe in my classroom, to talk or stay silent, whichever he needs. I promise you that.”  
  
The doctor couldn't entirely hide her surprise at the teacher's words, her eyes widening just for a moment before she gave her a little nod.  
  
“Thank you, Miss Martin,” she told her. “That... actually does make me feel a little better. Thank you.”  
  
The woman gave her a soft smile and just returned the nod, even as she replied, “Please, call me Gina.” Gina's smile grew just slightly before telling her, “And I truly meant what I said in there: Calvin's a special kid, and incredibly bright. Whether he talks or not, he's one of my best students, and I really do think he's beginning to get more comfortable in the classroom. He's transitioning quite well, honestly, considering everything he's been through. He keeps to himself, but Emma Birch has taken him under her wing and I think he appreciates it.”  
  
Clarke grinned at the mention of the little girl she considered her niece.  
  
“That doesn't surprise me at all,” she said, shaking her head while her smile grew. “Emma's a sweetheart like that.” When the teacher raised her eyebrows, the blonde informed her, “She's my niece... kind of. In all but blood. Her mother is one of my best friends, so Calvin's been around that family quite a bit in the time he's been with us, and he seems to be comfortable with her. Or as comfortable as he gets with people.” The teacher nodded, but even as she did Clarke watched her smile begin to fall away.  
  
“Emma was one of the contributing factors of the fight today, I think,” Gina admitted, and Clarke's smile immediately fell away as well. The teacher shook her head, before informing the blonde, “It happened during recess. I didn't see anything until the fight had already begun, but from what I understand mostly from Emma, the boy Calvin fought with was picking on him for never talking. Emma tried to tell the boy to leave Calvin alone, and the other kid pushed her, it sounds like. That's when Calvin started hitting him. It doesn't make it okay, but I think he was trying to protect her.”  
  
An ache tugged at Clarke's chest, so powerful that it nearly pulled all the way to her stomach. Until this moment nobody had thought to tell her exactly how the fight had started, and now knowing that Calvin had only done it to try to protect someone else, the blonde wanted to either curl up in a ball and cry over it or hold the little boy tightly and never let go. She felt a lump forming in the back of her throat, but swallowed around it, even as she forced herself to nod to the woman still in front of her.  
  
“Thank you,” she managed to get out, possibly hiding the break in her voice on the first word, but probably not. “For all of this, thank you, Gina; I'm glad that Calvin has such a wonderful teacher.”  
  
The other woman just smiled again and nodded, telling her, “I'm glad to be able to teach such an amazing student. I'll let you go now, I just wanted to make sure you knew he was safe in my classroom.”  
  
“I know,” Clarke assured her, stepping back a little as she spoke to get to her car. “Thank you. Really.” Gina simply nodded again, giving her a little wave, and then turned around and headed back towards the school.  
  
Getting into her car, Clarke immediately left the school, desperately needing to put space between her and it. As she drove, the teacher's words played over in her head, but so did Pike's, and the more those words repeated, the harsher her grip became against the steering wheel. Finally, her anger once again boiling beneath her skin as she thought about Pike's attitude towards their son, Clarke couldn't take it anymore, and roughly pressed the “Phone” button on her steering wheel.  
  
“Call Lexa,” she clearly stated, the bluetooth in her car clearly picking up the order, and only a second later she heard the phone start ringing, first once, then twice, and all the way through five times until she heard, “ _Hello, you've reached Lexa Griffin-Woods. I am unable to come to the phone at the moment, so please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you._ ”  
  
“Lexa, where are you?” Clarke growled, not even trying to keep either the anger or annoyance from her tone. “I swear, you better be okay. I don't know if you've heard yet, but Calvin got into another fight at school today. Your father picked him up, and I'm just now leaving a fan-fucking-tastic meeting with Principal Pike. I swear, if he tries to...” She trailed off, blowing out a loud puff of air. “Whatever. Pike's an asshole. Cal's teacher seems pretty good though, so at least there's that. And I'm almost home now, and will try to talk to Cal, make sure he's okay. I just...” She let out another sigh, this one less angry and more defeated. As the car sped closer and closer to home, she could feel herself beginning to deflate. “I'm just tired, I guess,” she finally said, shaking her head. “It's been a long day. But hey, the worst of it is over now.” Suddenly thinking of something, she added, “Oh hey, could you stop at the store on your way home today and grab something to take to the Birch's tonight? Something tells me I'm not going to have time to make dessert like I said I would, and you know how Octavia and Raven both get when they don't get something sweet.” Her lips quirked up into a small smile, almost against her will. “They're worse than children, I swear.” Eyes darting to the side as she turned the corner and saw their house come into view, she let out a final sigh. “Alright, well I'm home now. Just about. I love you. And please, call me when you get this message? You know how worried I get when no one can get a hold of you for a while. Please? Love you, Lexa.”  
  
As she pulled into her driveway, Clarke hung up her phone, ending the message and leaving it for Lexa to find whenever she got a chance to look at her cell. Turning the car off, she just sat there for a second, trying to steal herself. Gustus's car was still parked in the driveway, now next to hers, and it just served as a reminder of what she was likely to face when she walked inside. She had no idea what to say to him or to Calvin, no idea what to do; honestly, she was pretty sure she was drowning, and wasn't entirely sure she knew how to keep her head above water any longer.  
  
Finally she took a deep breath and then got out of the car, carefully grabbing the papers Gina had given her and taking them with her. The door to the gate around the front lawn already hung open, so she walked right through, not bothering to close it behind her. Without slowing down, she walked up to her front door and opened it, unsurprised to find it unlocked.  
  
“Hello?” she called out as she entered the house, letting the door shut behind her. Carefully she shrugged out of her jacket, hanging it up on the coat rack beside the door before kicking off her shoes, even as she looked down the hallway. When she shifted, she could see Gustus sitting in the kitchen, a newspaper in his hands that only now rested against the kitchen table, looking up and giving her a smile.  
  
“Hello, Clarke,” he returned, nodding to her as she moved down the short hallway, bypassing the stairs that would lead her to the floor above where she guessed Calvin would be, and instead moving to join her father-in-law at the table. As though he could read her thoughts, he nodded back towards the hallway, telling her, “Calvin's up in his room. He's been there since we got home.”  
  
“Thanks Gustus,” she told him, giving him a small appreciative smile as she pulled the chair at the end of the table out and sank down into it. She grabbed her phone out of her pocket, half wishing that Lexa would call, but then just dropped it on the table in front of her and carefully placed Calvin's papers next to it. Her smile slipping away, she barely managed to catch herself from biting her bottom lip before asking him, “How is he?”  
  
“Alright, I think,” he replied with a shrug, half turning his attention back to his newspaper. “He's been quiet, obviously. He's got a bruise along his cheek, but otherwise seems to be uninjured.” Glancing back to his daughter-in-law, he asked quietly, “What did the principal have to say?”  
  
“I don't want to talk about him,” the blonde all but bit, a small glare forming in the crease of her brow. “I don't even want to think about him, if I can help it.”  
  
“That bad?” Gustus asked, and Clarke met his eyes. “He said that he couldn't and wouldn't treat Calvin any differently than any other kid, which means no more fighting and he has to 'participate' in class,” she informed him, using air quotes around “participate,” the word flinging from her tongue.  
  
“What does he mean by participate?” Gustus wanted to know, completely looking away from the paper, and Clarke's glare only grew.  
  
“He means talk,” she growled, her fists curling up on top of the table. “He means that he doesn't care what happened to Calvin, he expects him to talk and be part of the class. Apparently it doesn't matter that it's his coping mechanism, doesn't matter that he's only quiet because it helps him feel safer, it isn't okay and won't be tolerated anymore.”  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke could see Gustus's head tip back just a bit, his jaw clenching beneath his thick beard, and it wasn't hard for her to figure out just exactly what he thought of that. Seeing his quiet anger made her feel better about her own, and her fists just clenched tighter.  
  
“And what did you say to that?” he asked, and Clarke tipped her head back, staring up at the ceiling before saying, “I wanted to tell him to go shove it. Instead I told him that Calvin will use whatever coping mechanism he needs as long as it isn't hurting anyone, and he will deal with it, or else. I don't really know what I'll do if he does try anything, but he is definitely not telling my son how to cope with his past and his emotions.” Gustus smiled thinly, his lips still pressed together, but told her, “Good. You told him exactly the right thing. If he does try to force Calvin into speaking, you will not be the only one showing up at his office, I promise you.”  
  
Clarke nodded, knowing he and the rest of her family would back her up, but all of a sudden the fight just drained out of her, leaving her feeling nothing but tired and disappointed. She closed her eyes, sagging back into her chair, before she whispered, “I just... I really thought he'd be talking by now.” Opening her eyes again, she met his look, and she thought she saw a flicker of understanding flash across his face. “I don't know why, I just... I thought he would be. I mean, I knew it wasn't going to be easy, but I really thought that by now he'd feel more comfortable. It's been two months, but it still feels like it did the day he got here. He's just... not happy.”  
  
“Give it time,” Gustus told her quietly, patting her arm gently. “It may seem like a long time, but two months is nothing.” Clarke just shook her head, closing her eyes again as her chin tucked close to her chest. “What if... what if we were wrong? What if we're not what he needs? What if we can't help him the way he needs to be helped?”  
  
The words were spoken, so quietly, so brokenly, that Gustus could tell it was the first time they'd been uttered, but seeing the pain on his daughter-in-law's face, he knew it wasn't the first time she'd thought them. He could practically see guilt and hurt rolling off of her, even as her eyes remained shut. Squeezing her arm gently, he gave her an encouraging smile when she finally looked at him again.  
  
“You and Lexa are doing everything you need to to make sure Calvin is safe and loved,” he assured her, his voice just as quiet. “But he's been through a lot, and it's going to take time before he feels safe enough to come out of his shell, to allow the walls he's built up to come down. I don't know how much time, I don't think anybody does, but that's all he needs. He needs patience, Clarke, and that's how I know he's with exactly the right family; the only person I know who has more patience than my daughter is you. Other people wouldn't know how to give him the space and time that he needs, but you two have mastered the art of patience and waiting. This is where he belongs, and someday he'll see that too.”  
  
Clarke nodded because she knew he was right, but it didn't help lessen the ache in her gut. Shaking her head once again, her arms folded in front of her and let her face drop into them, as though she were trying to hide away from the rest of the world. Her heart felt too heavy, the ache in her gut was beginning to make her feel sick, and the headache she'd felt coming on hours ago finally crept through her skull, causing her temples to throb. For just a second, she wished she could just disappear.  
  
Gustus let his eyes scan over his daughter-in-law. With her head in her arms, hunched over the table like that, she looked beat, tired in a way he wasn't used to seeing her. He knew Clarke nearly as well as he knew his own daughter: neither of them were the kind of women to allow themselves to be defeated. He knew the both of them would fight with everything they had, would do anything they possibly could to care for this boy who'd come into their lives. After just over two months with no kind of improvement to show for all they'd already done, he could understand how frustrated they both must be, and as he looked on, he could practically see that frustration leaking out of the blonde.  
  
“You know, in some ways Calvin reminds me of what Lexa was like after her mother died,” he mused suddenly. He watched as her head rose slightly against her arms, the hair that had pooled across her parting just enough for their eyes to meet. He quirked his lips at her. “Did she ever tell you about that?” The young woman shook her head, curiosity easily written across her face as her head lifted up even further, sitting slightly back in her seat so she could properly look at him. He sunk farther back in his own chair, his arms folding across him as he looked up, memories flooding back to him.  
  
“It was hard for her, when her mother died,” he began, still looking up. “It was hard for both of us, of course, but Maria's death... A parent's death effects a child, especially one as young as Lexa was when it happened, in ways that... Well, ways that I guess you would expect, but you're still not ready for it. She was...” He had to close his eyes then, the memories of his daughter, so hurt for so long, her eyes suddenly guarded, the same look that had only become commonplace for the longest time, suddenly too strong to push back. His little girl, who before then had been so easy-going, so happy and always ready with a smile, hardening right before his eyes. Her mother's death had forever changed Lexa, in ways that still effected her to this day.  
  
Gustus shook his head, his eyes opening as he turned back to his daughter-in-law, finding Clarke's on him, her brow pulled down a bit. He wasn't surprised that she didn't know much about Maria's death: Lexa had never been particularly open to talking about her mother and how that death had effected her.  
  
“She was angry, after her mother died,” he finally said with a small shrug. “Angry, sad, scared: all emotions that Lexa doesn't like to feel. She tried even then to push them back, but at seven it's harder to hide from your feelings. So when she couldn't hide from them, she lashed out. During the months that followed her mother's death, I got more than one phone call from the school. I knew she was a good kid, a great kid, but she was lost and didn't know how to handle all of the terrifying emotions she was feeling, so she acted out, pushing and hitting at times when I knew she knew there were better ways to handle her problems.”  
  
“So what happened?” Clarke asked him, her brow still pulled down. “She didn't spend the rest of her time at school getting into fights, so how did you help her?”  
  
“We found an outlet for her,” he answered, leaning forward. “She started dance lessons by the time she was eight. One of the teachers I talked to suggested it. She got involved with dance, and used that as a way to get out her anger. She channeled all of the different emotions into it, and that helped her to move past it all.” He frowned then, and Clarke saw something flash across his face before he pressed his fingers to his chin, rubbing them against his thick beard.  
  
“I... I probably should have done more, I know,” he said, his tone lowering and eyes shifting to the side. “I should have made her talk about it, about how she was feeling and... everything else. I should have helped her to open up about it all but I...” His eyes met Clarke's again, and she could see the guilt present in them. He coughed, as though to clear his throat. “It's never been something I've been particularly good with either,” he admitted. “Talking about, well about feelings, emotions. Trying to talk about my wife, and especially about what happened to her...” He trailed off again for a moment, shaking his head. “I wasn't good at that. I'm still not.” His facial expression hardened, the guilt only becoming more clear. “But I should have been better at it. For Lexa. I should have insisted that she talk about it, that she talk to someone. But when she stopped fighting, when dance seemed to be helping her to move on from it all, I didn't want to bring it all back to her. To either of us. I let us both move on, even though neither of us had really figured out how to vocalize what we were feeling.” He slumped back in his chair, shoulders sagging slightly even as he reached up, once again running fingers through his beard. For a moment he was quiet, clearly stuck in his own thoughts, and then he looked up, meeting Clarke's eyes once again and she watched as he let out a long sigh. “I know that Lexa still has problems with opening up, with letting people in and seeing her when she's hurting, and I can't help but wonder if things would be different if I'd insisted she talk with someone when she was little.”  
  
“Lexa's amazing, Gustus,” Clarke told him, her tone both strong and gentle. She reached out, taking one of his hands with her own and not allowing him to break eye contact with her. She smiled at him as she continued, “She's amazing, and that's all because of you. You raised an incredible girl who's become this incredible person. There aren't a lot of people who could have done as well as you did with the situation you were suddenly thrown into. She's amazing, Gustus, and you have always been an amazing father.”  
  
His lips quirked up again as he squeezed the hand holding his.  
  
“She is amazing,” he agreed, nodding. “Lexa has done more with her life than either her mother or I ever dreamed she would do. I am more proud of her than I can even begin to try to describe.” He shook his head, the small smile pulling further against his lips. Once again he squeezed the hand still in his own as he said, “She's incredible, and so is Calvin. He's a good kid, Clarke, he's just lost like Lexa was. He's gone through things that nobody should have to go through, especially not a kid. He's angry, and he's scared, and he doesn't know what to do about that so he fights. It must be even worse for him because that is what he was taught to do.” He released her hand, placing both palms on the table and pushing himself out of his chair. Clarke followed after him, standing just a moment later. He rounded the table and then wrapped his arms around his daughter-in-law's shoulders, pulling her in for a hug. “You just need to find something to help him channel everything he's feeling right now,” he murmured against blonde hair before pulling back and meeting blue eyes.  
  
The young woman sighed, her eyes closing briefly before opening again. Her lips pulled up into a partial smile, nearly forced, as she said, “Something tells me he won't be open to dance classes like Lexa was.” Gustus's grin grew slightly at that, shaking his head as he replied, “No, probably not. But there's a way to help him with his anger: you just have to find it.” His eyes lowered then, before his shoulders slumped just a bit. “But when you find that, don't forget to talk to him, and let him talk to you,” he added quietly, the guilt once again flashing across his face. “He needs to know that it's okay to talk about what he's feeling, that it's better than pushing it all down.” Clarke nodded, agreeing, and he pulled her in for one more hug.  
  
“I should be going now,” he said when the two stepped away from each other. “You and your son have some things you need to try to talk about.”  
  
“Thanks again, Gustus,” Clarke told him, as she followed him out of the kitchen and down the hall. “Really: I hope we won't be getting anymore calls about Calvin getting into fights, but it's good to know that you're here to help if it does happen.”  
  
“Any time,” he replied as he grabbed his jacket from one of the hooks on the wall. “He's my grandson: I will always be here to help him, and to help both of you.” Clarke flashed him another grateful smile, one he easily returned, and then they both nodded before he opened the door, shooting her one last encouraging look before leaving.  
  
For a second after her father-in-law left, Clarke simply stood at the door, looking out into the yard and just thinking. As Gustus's car left the driveway and took off down the road however, she managed to tear her focus back inside the house, taking a deep breath before she swung the door shut. Turning around, her eyes immediately flickered up the staircase only a few feet away, and she let out a small sigh before she felt her back straighten, her chin lifting up. Without letting herself put it off any longer, she let her feet guide her up the stairs, her grip only a little tighter than usual on the railing. Once on the second floor, she turned immediately towards Calvin's room, pausing only for a second to knock on the door.  
  
“Calvin?” she called softly, one hand going to the door knob and twisting it as she lightly pushed against the door. “I need to talk with-”  
  
Clarke's breath got caught in her throat, absolute and sudden terror striking like lightning through her. She looked into the little boy's bedroom and found everything she'd expect to find: a bed, a dresser, a backpack, a couple of toys strewn across the floor. Everything she'd expect to find, except for Calvin himself.  
  
“Calvin!” Panic nearly clouded her vision as she pushed the door open all the way, her eyes frantically darting around the room. He was supposed to be here. Gustus had said he was here, he wouldn't be anywhere else, he was supposed to be here, but he wasn't. His backpack was there, on the ground and partially open, but he himself wasn't anywhere to be found and the panic began to settle like a rock in her chest, weighing her down and if she thought she hadn't been able to breathe before it was nothing compared to now. Her hands trembled at her sides and her stomach rolled, threatening to empty as the panic flipped it all around. She didn't know what to do, he was supposed to be here, he was supposed to be in this room, was supposed to be _right here_ and he wasn't and she didn't know what to do, didn't know how to find him because where would he go? If he'd run away, where would he possibly go and how were they supposed to track him down, and Clarke didn't know, she didn't know anything at this moment except that she couldn't move, couldn't even think straight, couldn't form any thoughts beyond, “Have to find him. Call Lexa. Call Lexa. _Call Lexa!_ ”  
  
Just as she was about to spin around and do just that, Clarke heard the faintest scratching noise come from the far side of the room, and immediately her focus shot to it. Her eyes fell on Calvin's closet, the shuttered doors shut, and slowly she made her way over to it, her heart thudding dangerously fast in her chest. Her hand still trembling, she reached forward, grabbing one of the door handles, and pulled it open.  
  
“Oh thank God,” she let out in a near whisper, the almost-prayer released along with the breath that had been caught in her lungs. Sitting at the back of his closet, his knees curled up to his chest with one arm wrapped around them while his other hand remained buried in Pauna's fur, she found Calvin. He didn't look up at her, barely showed that he noticed the door had opened at all other than to curl even tighter around his knees. Pauna looked up at her though, a whine escaping the back of her throat as she looked from the little boy huddled beside her to her mother standing in front of her.  
  
Managing to regain control of her thudding heart, Clarke took a silent breath through her nose, forcing herself to calm down even further, before she gave the little boy a small smile.  
  
“Hi,” she just said quietly, looking at his face even though he wouldn't turn up to meet the look. With the light that filtered in from the room, she could see the dark bruise that had bloomed along his cheek, a mark that certainly hadn't been there the last time she looked at him. “Looks like you've found quite the hiding place. Mind if I join you?”  
  
Unsurprisingly, he made no indication he'd heard her, so after just a second of hesitancy, Clarke dropped to her knees and then shuffled forward, entering the small closet. She moved so that Pauna still sat between them, trying to give the boy his space, and smiled slightly when the dog turned to her, her rump wagging slightly before she gave her hand a quick kiss. Knowing what she wanted, Clarke scratched the dog behind her good ear for a second, even as she glanced around. The closet was small, but few enough things currently hung in it that all three of them easily fit inside, only the light from the bedroom breaking up the dark of the closet. Anyone claustrophobic would have a hard time in there, but sitting with her back against the wall, Clarke actually found the space to be rather comforting.  
  
“Huh. This is kind of nice,” she mused, still looking around. “It's actually pretty relaxing in here.” Still Calvin said nothing, didn't even move, and Clarke felt her bottom lip slip between her teeth as her head fell back, resting on the wall. She felt lost, drifting in a sea of uncertainty, desperately wanting to be able to help this little boy but having no idea how to. He'd closed himself off from everyone else long ago; how was she supposed to be able to help him open up when she could barely get him to even look at her, let alone speak to her?  
  
For a few minutes, she sat there, her eyes falling closed as her mind whirled, trying to come up with a solution, and then suddenly something just snapped into place. Her eyes sprang open, mouth immediately quirking up even as she felt like hitting her own forehead, amazed she hadn't thought of it before.  
  
“Duh Clarke,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head, but the smile didn't slip away, even as she began to drag herself out of the closet. Pauna whined as she pulled herself up, her head moving as she looked from boy to mom, and even Calvin's eyes flickered up, briefly. “Calvin, when you're ready, I've got a surprise for you,” the blonde simply told him, flashing him a warm smile. “Stay in here as long as you need and when you're ready come downstairs. The surprise will be waiting for you. You stay with Calvin, Pauna,” she told the dog as she whined again, reaching forward and giving the dog another scratch to help her relax. “I know you don't want to leave him.” Pulling her hand back, her eyes shifted from the dog back to the boy, meeting guarded brown eyes, and she felt her expression soften further even as she flashed him another smile.  
  
With the smile, Clarke turned around, quickly leaving the boy and dog alone again. Her lips remained quirked up, even as her heartbeat picked up in her chest. She hoped this would work...

***

Stiffly, Calvin made his way down the stairs, one arm hanging limply at his side while the other remained crooked, his hand pressing against Pauna's back. The big dog walked beside him, easily moving at his pace as he slowly made his way down the stairs, turning her head every now and then to give him a grin, as though she hoped he'd return it. He didn't, but he did grip his fingers tightly in her fur, giving her little scratches every now and then.  
  
He didn't know how long he'd sat in the closet after Clarke left, but eventually his curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he'd pulled himself out of his room. As he turned the corner at the end of the stairs, he subconsciously grit his teeth, barely wincing when the bruise along his cheek was pulled taut, a reminder of why he'd been hiding in the closet for so long. This bruise was nothing, nothing in comparison to some of the others he'd gotten, so he just pushed the slight ache away, ignoring it.  
  
Walking into the kitchen, Calvin's eyes glanced around, not finding the blonde who called herself his mother there. Continuing on, he made his way through the kitchen and into the living, and there he found her.  
  
Clarke sat on a tall stool in the middle of the room, one he recognized from the island in the kitchen. A large plastic sheet laid out across the floor, covering the white carpet and catching any drops that fell from her paintbrush. A large easel stood in front of the seated blonde, colors already swirling along its canvas, and even as Calvin watched she added another streak to it, adding a splash of green into what was already a field of blues and grays and purples. A second easel and stool stood beside her, a palette sitting on top of the stool with a brush laying across it. Between the stools laid tubes of paint, some looking brand new, others half-used, and still others that seemed to have been squeezed dry already.  
  
As he entered the room, the blonde's eyes flashed to him momentarily, once again shooting him a small smile. “Come on,” she just said, gesturing towards the stool she'd set out for him. “The canvas is waiting for you.”  
  
A little unsure, Calvin moved over to the stool, eyeing it before he picked up the palette, giving it a look. The paintbrush rolled across its surface, nearly falling before he could catch it. As his fist curled around the paintbrush, he felt his eyebrows furrow. His eyes flickered back to Clarke and her painting, seeing the colors seeming to swirl so perfectly together, and then flickered back to his own blank canvas.  
  
“You don't have to know what you're gonna paint,” Clarke told him, almost as if she could read his mind. When he looked back at her, she wasn't looking at him, instead her focus still on her own work as she pulled her brush across the canvas. “I almost never know what I'm going to paint when I sit down,” she explained, her voice almost soft. “I just let the paint guide me. A lot of the times when I'm feeling lost, this is what helps me. I just grab my paint and paintbrush and let them tell me how I'm feeling. I never know the colors, the design, the feeling I'm going for until I'm here, sitting in front of my canvas, and just letting my work speak for me. And sometimes...” She trailed off, her brow creasing just the slightest, before she stuck the end of her paintbrush beneath her, stuck between her thigh and the stool as its brush hung out in the air, and then Calvin watched as she dipped two fingers into the paint on her palette. He could practically see her expression shift as soon as the paint clung to her skin, and then it was her fingers dancing across the canvas, leaving messy trails in their wake. “Sometimes a paintbrush just isn't good enough, isn't right. Sometimes I need to feel the paint before I can begin to understand what's going on inside my head or outside around me. Sometimes this is the only thing that feels right.” He gave her a look, clearly not entirely sure about any of this, but when her eyes flickered back to him, he watched as the corners of her lips pulled up almost imperceptibly. Her eyebrows rose, her head gesturing to his canvas, and she just said, “Go on.”  
  
For another second he stood there, eyes glancing back and forth between the canvas, the palette in his hand, and the tubes of paint on the floor, and then he found himself moving. The paintbrush felt right in his grip, but wrong for the moment, so he carefully stuck it in his back pocket, getting it out of his way. He grabbed a few of the tubes of paint and splattered little dollops on the palette, unsure which ones he wanted to use but taking some of most of them just in case. Once done, he carefully pulled himself up on the stool and then sat, staring at the white canvas in front of him.  
  
She'd said she never knew the colors or designs ahead of time, just let the paint do the work, so he decided not to think about what he was doing. Instead he looked at the colors in front of him, trying to decide which to use. Orange, he decided; orange felt right, though why he didn't know. Hesitantly he dabbed a finger in the blob of paint, watching Clarke out of the corners of her eyes in case it was a trick. At one of his foster homes he'd gotten yelled at for getting marker on his skin, but Clarke didn't seem to be paying attention, her focus having returned to her own work where her fingers continued to paint swirls and patterns he didn't understand.  
  
Carefully he brought the orange-tipped finger up, looking at it for a second before reaching forward and pulling it down the center of the canvas. As he watched, a thin orange line grew before him, the color a stark difference against the solid white around it. It looked lonely, he thought, his head tilting slightly. Lonely, being the only orange in an otherwise white world. To try to help it, he dragged another line beside it, but the second line only made that lonely feeling grow inside him. He added another line and then another, and with each line the feeling grew.  
  
Maybe some brown, he thought, maybe that would help to make it look better. But as a second finger dipped into the splash of brown and then added a few dots to the page, only a sense of confusion seemed to grow from it. The canvas, now showing a few orange lines and a few brown dots, seemed lost, incomplete, and Calvin felt an ache develop in his chest, far stronger than the one he felt from his bruise. Without thinking about it, his entire palm slapped against the palette, gray and red mixing together against his skin, and then he was smearing it, wiping it from the top of the canvas to the bottom, and still the ache didn't go away. His jaw clenched, he dropped the palette in his lap and grabbed onto the canvas with his free hand, holding it in place as his paint-covered palm slid across the canvas.  
  
Chaos swirled in front of him, in the same way it swirled inside of him. Colors bled together but didn't belong together, some completely wiping the others out. A streak of orange would suddenly be cut off by a streak of gray, the two smearing together at the point of contact, but clearly not meant to be together, and Calvin just glared at the colors even as his hands flew across the canvas. Nothing looked right, nothing _felt_ right, and the more he tried to fix it, tried to make it all the way it should be, the worse it looked. His throat burned, fire somehow making its way up his esophagus, and he felt his grip on the canvas tighten when he realized tears streamed down his cheeks.  
  
_Knock it off_ , he heard, the voice in his head sounding exactly like his father even though he hadn't seem him for two years. _Boys don't cry. Quit being such a sissy or I'll treat you like one_.  
  
Quickly he wiped the tears away, smearing them against the sleeve of his arm, but when he looked up, Clarke wasn't watching him, wasn't giving him that look his father always had whenever he'd caught Calvin crying. Instead she still appeared to be focused on her own painting, her fingers moving slowly across the canvas, her expression seeming entirely relaxed. She hadn't seemed relaxed at all when she'd opened the door and found him in the closet, hadn't even seemed very relaxed when she'd said she had a surprise, but now, sitting on her stool beside him, she looked like she didn't have a care in the world.  
  
Calvin glanced at her canvas and then his own. Had painting really been able to help her that much? It didn't make any sense. But when he looked again, his eyes flickering up to take another look at her face, she still seemed more relaxed than he'd seen her, possibly ever. Turning back to his own canvas, he frowned, but tried to think of nothing like she'd said and just let the paint guide him.  
  
Blues appeared on the canvas almost without him even realizing he'd chosen it. It swirled in places, mixing with the gray already there and simply changing its shade. Something about that felt right, and then Calvin found himself dabbing at the blue and the black, mixing them until dark blue streaks flew out across the top of the page. Swirls and dots and zigzags, they grew without him guiding them, and as they did so did everything inside him, and this time when the tears ran down his cheeks, he didn't wipe them away simply because he didn't realize they were there. He was too busy, too focused on bringing to life the pain that clawed at his chest, the ache he'd felt for as long as he could remember, putting his loneliness and sadness on display where anyone could see it. His tears dripped from his chin to the palette, mixing in with the paint, and without knowing it he began painting with his tears.  
  
He didn't know how long his hands moved against the canvas, didn't know how long he spent pouring his pain out so that he could finally see it. Even once his hands stopped, the pain forever solidified in this image in front of him, he just sat there, staring at it as his tears began to slow down. He sat and he stared, nearly forgetting anyone else was there, until Clarke's voice broke through the hazy fog clouding his mind.  
  
“I'm sorry you hurt so much, Calvin,” she nearly whispered, and he tore his focus away from his art to look at her. He could see the sorrow, the pain written across her face, and for the briefest of seconds he remembered his mother, remembered seeing a similar look on her face after his father would hit him. There was something different about Clarke's expression though, some kind of strength or stubbornness his mother had never had. He saw that, even as he watched a single tear slip down her cheek. “It's not okay that you were hurt like this, not okay that no one kept you safe like you should have been. I'm sorry that so many people told you it was all over, that you were home when you weren't. I'm sorry you had to wait so long to find a family, but Lexa and I want to be your family. Neither of us are perfect, not by a long shot, but we'll love you. We already do love you. We'll love you and we'll keep you safe, and I promise that no one will ever hurt you again, not the way you've been hurt. You deserve to be loved and safe and to grow up like a regular little boy, and I promise you that Lexa and I will give you that. Every single day for the rest of your life, Calvin, we're gonna be here for you. I promise.”  
  
Calvin watched her as she spoke, listening to the words, but he couldn't help but focus on her cheek, the same one the tear ran down. A streak of paint bloomed across her skin, still damp and shining. Blue, he noticed, like the sadness on his canvas. He crooked his finger at her, gesturing for her to lean forward. She did, surprise and confusion both dancing behind an expression she tried to control, and when she was close enough he reached up with his clean hand, carefully dragging his finger across the streak. He held it up between them, showing them both the blue now coating his finger, and he watched as she just smiled. Slowly she reached out, her fingers hesitating before they closed the space, and then he felt one finger slide along the side of his uninjured cheek. When she held the finger up, he saw paint covering its tip too. Orange, like the one little lonely line that had started all of this.  
  
Clarke leaned forward just a little further, her thumb moving and running along his cheek, wiping away the tear streaks that still stained his skin.  
  
“I love you, Calvin,” she whispered, before she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “I love everything about you, and I will work hard every day to make sure you feel comfortable here. But,” she added, pulling away slightly and quirking an eyebrow at him, even as she continued to smile. “No more fighting. I know that you were taught that using your fists is okay, but here it's not. Not here, and not at school. From now on if anyone is making you feel uncomfortable or upset, please walk away. Get me or Lexa, or your teacher or some other adult, and let them handle it. Hurting someone is never the answer, and it's never going to make you feel better. Okay?”  
  
Calvin hesitated for a second and then nodded. He didn't know if he could do that, but he could at least try. For now. Without meaning to, his eyes flickered back to his canvas, and Clarke followed his gaze. As if understanding, she gave him another little smile and told him, “What do you think about making an art corner for yourself? We can set it up in the playroom upstairs, and it can be just your space, your place to go whenever you're feeling too much. We'll get you your own paints and brushes and canvases. Sound like a good idea?” He looked down at his hands, one that just had a little bit of blue across one fingertip, the other whose palm was covered with drying paint, and he felt the corners of his lips quirk up. Eyes flickering back to Clarke, he just nodded. The smile on her face grew, and then she nodded. “Alright, it's decided; we'll go get you your own art supplies this weekend. In the meantime though, how about a bath before we have to get ready to go to the Birches?” He frowned at the reminder of their evening plans, but just nodded. Clarke returned the nod, and then gently looped her arm around his shoulder, the touch barely there, but he didn't pull away.  
  
It didn't take long for them to get Calvin clean, and soon Clarke was leaving him in his room to get dressed, Pauna once again at his side. As he dressed, she began cleaning up the living room, her heart feeling a hundred times lighter than it had only an hour ago.  
  
“Hey,” she heard behind her, and turned to see Lexa standing in the doorway of the living room, a worried expression on her face. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the art supplies everywhere, before they moved back to her wife. The blonde smiled up at her, dropping the tubes of paint she'd been holding back to the plastic sheet and moving over to her.  
  
“Hey,” she replied, before she wound her fingers in brown hair and pulled her wife closer, her lips happily falling against Lexa's. The brunette returned the kiss after a beat, surprised by the welcome. Her own hands moved to Clarke's face, fingers gently running along the blonde's cheeks before she slowly pulled their mouths apart. Her eyes scanned the other woman's face, worry still etched along her brow, before she asked, “Clarke, are you okay? You sounded upset in your message, and then didn't answer when I tried to callback. What happened?”  
  
“You called me?” the blonde asked, surprised, before her hands fell down to her pockets, searching for her cellphone. She frowned, confused, until she looked past Lexa and saw her phone on the kitchen table. Side-stepping around her wife, she moved over to it, grabbing the cell from the table and unlocking the screen. Sure enough, she saw the messages indicating she'd missed a call and been left a voicemail. “Oops,” she just said sheepishly, turning around and looking at the brunette. “Sorry, I didn't have my phone on me.”  
  
“It isn't important,” Lexa replied, waving her hand. Her brow still creased, she followed Clarke into the kitchen, not looking away from the blonde. “Are you okay? Is Calvin okay? What happened at school?”  
  
“Oh that,” Clarke answered with a sigh, dropping into one of the chairs at the table. Lexa followed her, her eyebrow simply rising as she settled beside her wife. “It sounds like another kid was picking on Calvin for not talking, and when Emma tried to get him to stop, the kid pushed her. That made Calvin lash out. That's what his teacher said, anyway.”  
  
“And what about Pike?” Lexa wanted to know. “In your message, you did not seem too pleased with him.” Clarke's jaw clenched, the reminder of the principal only managing to stir up her anger again. Shaking her head, she forced it back down, refusing to lose the happiness she currently felt.  
  
“I'll tell you about him later,” she just said, and then Lexa watched as her smile grew. “There's something more important to talk about; I think I found a way to help Calvin open up, help him deal with his emotions.”  
  
Lexa's eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as her expression immediately brightened. “You did? What is it?” she wanted to know, leaning forward and linking her fingers with her wife's, a motion that had become second nature to them both. Clarke just gave the fingers a little squeeze before nodding back towards the living room. “Painting. Art,” she told her. “I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner. I set up some canvases, got out some paint, and showed him that it's okay to use the paint to express his feelings. And he did, Lexa, he was...” Clarke trailed off for a second, feeling a lump burning in her throat as she remembered the absolute pain she'd seen in his eyes as he'd painted the canvas with his emotions. She felt Lexa's fingers tighten against hers, and she forced herself to swallow. “He was crying,” she managed to continue quietly, “And I was crying. He was hurting so much, but when he stopped, I don't know, something just seemed... different. Or like it could be different, eventually? I don't know Lexa, I can't really explain it, I just think that maybe, maybe things are changing? Maybe it's gonna be easier, from now on? Maybe.”  
  
Lexa smiled, even as she leaned forward. Her forehead pressed against her wife's, their eyes meeting, and her grip on the blonde's hand tightened.  
  
“I'm alright with maybe,” she murmured. “Maybe is at least a step in the right direction.”  
  
“Yeah,” Clarke agreed softly, hope clearly coloring her tone. “Yeah it is.” She pressed forward, planting a light kiss to the brunette's lips, both sets of eyes closing at the familiar contact that neither could or would ever get enough of. The hope that had colored her tone fluttered in her chest, nearly making Clarke feel like she could fly. For awhile it'd looked like the day was going to be a bad one, like things were just going to continue to go wrong, but now it seemed like maybe, just maybe, they were starting to go right again. Especially, she realized, when she caught sight of the pies sitting on the island just a few feet away.  
  
“You remembered to grab dessert for tonight,” she said, surprised. Up until this moment, she'd completely forgotten about the request she'd left on her wife's voicemail. Lexa quirked an eyebrow, one corner of her mouth pulling up, before she replied, “Of course. You asked me to.” Clarke just shook her head, smiling as she leaned forward once again.  
  
“Did you know I love you?” she asked, eyes bright as she grinned at the woman she'd loved for nearly half her lifetime. Lexa's lips pulled up just a bit farther, before answering, “I've had my suspicions. Did you know I love you as well?”  
  
“I kinda guessed as much,” the blonde replied, her smile not disappearing even as she once again closed the space between them, their lips coming together just as they were made to do.  
  
Yes, after two long months of feeling like they were drowning, things were starting to look up.

***

Calvin listened as Clarke laughed at something, the sound getting nearly lost in the talk around the table. She and Lexa sat with the rest of the adults, empty plates in front of them, and Calvin watched as Raven swiped a finger across her plate and then stuck it into her mouth, grinning around it as she made sure to get every last pie crumb. Octavia just shook her head at the other woman, even as she smiled.  
  
He'd met them all weeks ago. Octavia and her husband Lincoln, Raven and Bellamy; they were Clarke and Lexa's friends. There were more of them, sure, but these were the ones they saw the most. He knew they tried to get together every week, every other week if their schedules were just too busy, and since he'd moved in with them he'd been dragged along every time.  
  
Not that he really minded, if he was being perfectly honest. They were strange people, but at least they seemed okay. They didn't bug him like some adults did, and none of them ever tried to make him talk. And whenever he saw Octavia and Lincoln, it meant he also got to see Emma. Emma was nice.  
  
“Jonas, let go!” that same girl growled, shooting a glare at her little brother. The four-year old shook his head, matching her glare, as he shouted, “No! I wanna play!” The stuffed animal between them looked distressed, the elephant's ears about to rip off if either pulled on it any harder. To save the poor thing, Calvin held out his zebra to the little boy, raising his eyebrows.  
  
Jonas looked at him curiously, his fight over the elephant momentarily coming to a standstill as he eyed the stuffed animal. “It's my turn?” he asked, and Calvin just nodded. The younger boy grinned, letting go of his grip on the elephant, and then grabbed the zebra. “Thanks Calbin!” Calvin just smiled and gave him another nod. The younger boy fiddled with the stuffed animal, his head quirking to the side as he studied the older boy.  
  
“How come you don't talk?” he asked, and Calvin just shrugged, still smiling. Emma, however, did not take the question as well.  
  
“Jonas!” she exclaimed, also dropping the elephant before her hands moved to her hips. “You know mom said we're not sposed to ask that! Calvin doesn't have to talk if he doesn't want to!”  
  
“Just asking...” he muttered, dropping his head, his lower lip coming out in a pout. Without another word he turned his attention back to his zebra, turning around and moving over to the other side of the living room where he grabbed a small car from the floor.  
  
Emma shot her brother another look, before turning back to Calvin. She rolled her eyes at him, clearly exasperated, before telling him, “Sorry about that. Jonas doesn't always think before he talks. He wasn't trying to be mean.” Calvin just shrugged, giving her a smile, but then watched as her eyes darted to his cheek, clearly looking at his bruise. “Does it hurt?” she asked, frowning, and he shook his head. She was quiet for a second, her gaze dropping back to the elephant on the floor beside her, before she bent down to pick him back up. “I'm sorry,” she said quietly, still looking at the elephant. “About recess today. I'm sorry Joey said all that stuff. He's a dummy anyway.” Her eyes flickered up, meeting his, and he saw her flinch when she caught sight of the bruise again. “And I'm sorry he hurt you. And that you got in trouble cause of it.”  
  
Without thinking, Calvin grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze as he just flashed her a smile. None of it was her fault, and he didn't like seeing her upset, so he gave it another squeeze. She returned it, flashing him her own smile.  
  
“I'm glad Auntie Clarke and Auntie Lexa adopted you,” she informed him. “They're great, and they deserve to have someone as awesome as you as their son. And now I have a best friend!”  
  
Calvin's eyes quickly flickered over to the table, finding all of the adults beginning to move around. He looked at the two women who'd adopted him, and then nodded hesitantly. He wasn't so sure he agreed they were awesome yet, but they were better than the other places he'd been. And maybe they were... alright. Plus they had Pauna and Panther, and they were the best. He looked back back at Emma as she gave his hand another squeeze, and studied her also. He'd never had a best friend before. Maybe that was okay too.  
  
“Alright kiddos, watch out for Big Mama or she'll bowl you right over!” he heard Raven exclaim, her voice getting closer. He looked over to the doorway and found the adults all moving into the living room, Octavia leading the way and the rest of them following closely behind. Emma's mom's belly was huge, bigger than any bowling ball he'd ever seen before.  
  
“You know Raven, some pregnant women wouldn't like being called Big Mama, and might even hold it against you,” Octavia informed her, raising her eyebrows. Her eyes flickered over to her friend even as she somehow managed to slowly lower herself onto the couch, adding, “Not me, of course.” The woman then smiled as Jonas jumped up from where he was playing and raced over to her, scrambling onto the couch. One arm wrapped around the little boy, pulling him closer so she could press a kiss to his temple just before he turned his head sideways, pressing an ear to his mother's stomach. “Hi babies!” he yelled, rubbing his hand in circular patterns along her belly. “It's me, Jonas!”  
  
“Yeah well, not every pregnant woman is carrying twins,” Raven answered, grinning down at the little boy still pressed against his mother's stomach. “And even fewer pregnant women are carrying my little niece and nephew!” When Jonas looked up quickly, eyes wide, she corrected, “My _new_ niece and nephew, and carried my old niece and nephew.” Jonas simply nodded, accepting the correction, and then laid his head back against his mother.  
  
Octavia gave some sort of reply, but Calvin didn't pay attention to it as Clarke and Lexa stepped forward, the blonde rolling her eyes at her two friends and the brunette just smiling down at him.  
  
“You ready to go, Cal?” the brunette asked, holding out her hand to him. He looked at it for a second, and then felt pressure against his own. Looking down at it, he realized Emma still held his hand, and when he looked up she was giving him an encouraging smile, her eyes bright. Turning back to Lexa, her hand still out, he finally nodded, squeezing Emma's hand one last time before releasing it. A moment later a much bigger one held his, and he watched as Lexa's smile grew. The brunette only looked away when Clarke grabbed her free hand, flashing her a smile before flashing the same smile down at Calvin.  
  
“Time to go?” the blonde just asked, and her wife nodded. Calvin watched as Clarke returned the nod before calling over her shoulder, “Hey Jonas, can you say goodnight to those babies for us?”  
  
“Babies, Aunie Clarke, Aunie Leka and Calbin say goodnight!” he heard the boy say, the words clearly directed towards Octavia's stomach. With the goodnight said, Clarke looked back at the two of them, her eyes bright, before she said, “Come on, let's go home.”  
  
And it was really weird but Calvin kind of felt like... he was. 

***

Six nights later, Clarke and Lexa both almost missed it. If the door's squeak had been any louder they would have, and in that moment Lexa made a mental note to fix the hinge. But it wasn't too loud, and as they pulled the door shut behind them after telling Calvin goodnight, they just managed to hear it whispered.  
  
“Night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back! For those of you who've been painstakingly waiting for this story to update, I profusely apologize. I plan to work solely on this fic for at least a month, which means I should be getting out a new chapter every week, unless something unforeseen happens.
> 
> Anyone curious about the sequel for "Unbroken:" it's coming, I promise! However, I definitely won't be starting it for at least another month or so for two reasons, the first of which is that I really need to give this story some love for a little while. It's been a little neglected, unfortunately. The second reason is that planning out the other sequel takes time, and a lot of it. I am building twelve clans (ish), and as I imagine most of you know by now, I don't do anything half-assed. I won't start the story until I've truly fleshed out the world and the people in it, which I've started to do, I promise, but still have a lot more that needs to go in it. So it's coming, I promise, just not right away. I hope that this story can tide you over in the mean time.
> 
> Thanks everyone, and welcome back to "Continuum!" Hope Calvin's managed to begin worming his way into your hearts (he's taken up permanent residence in mine)!


	4. Chapter Four - Stand By Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Calvin is 12, Tris is 9, and Skylar is 5. The songs referenced are "L-O-V-E" by Nat King Cole, and "Stand By Me" by Ben E. King. I highly recommend giving them a listen, if you've never heard either before.

_Six Years Later_

It was a rare occurrence when all five members of the Griffin-Woods family were home for an evening. With Clarke's many night shifts at the hospital, Lexa's errands and work at the Vet Center, and Cal and Tris's hockey practices, seldom did an evening go by when they found themselves all at home. This, however, was one such evening.  
  
They sat in the living room, each doing their own thing as they digested dinner, a meal that Clarke and Tris had made together after shooing Lexa out of the kitchen. Calvin sat at the end of the couch, his history textbook in his lap and a notebook balancing on his knee. As his pencil scratched against paper, doodles came to life along the margins of the page, his mind clearly wandering far away from Mesopotamia and the Fertile Crescent. Clarke and Skylar sat at the other end of the couch, the blonde's arm slung casually around her youngest daughter, the little girl curling up into her mother's side as she listened wide-eyed to the adventures of Stuart Little, the little mouse whose family loved him very much even though he was different from the rest of them. Lexa and Tris both sat in the large recliners, Tris's pulled out and laying back as she watched the news, the book she was supposed to be reading for one of her classes fallen open and ignored beside her, while Lexa sorted through a pile of forms in her lap, every now and then glancing up when something in the news caught her attention. It was a peaceful evening, nothing particularly special about it other than the fact they were all together.  
  
As the name he'd been doodling came together on the page in front of him, Calvin couldn't help but scowl, the little shift in expression not missed by his mother when she just happened to look up from her files, eyes scanning across the room as she often did out of habit. An eyebrow rose as she looked at her son, her forms carefully dropping to her lap.  
  
“Is something wrong, Cal?” she asked, watching as his eyes widened, the scowl quickly smoothing out of his features as he tried to hide the expression. She watched him shift in his seat, not failing to notice as his hand fell to his notebook, clearly covering something up. As he looked over to her, her eyebrow simply lifted higher, all she needed to do to show him that he couldn't hide whatever it was from her.  
  
Nevertheless, he still tried.  
  
“Nah, nothing's wrong,” he lied, eyes quickly darting away from hers, only furthering Lexa's certainty that something actually was. When he looked back he found that she still hadn't looked away, hadn't changed her expression at all, and he had to grit his teeth slightly to keep himself from looking away again.  
  
“Clearly something is,” his brunette mother told him, and he could feel his other mother now looking worriedly at him too. “What is it?”  
  
“Cal?” he heard his Mum call, worry in her tone. Looking over, he found both her and Sky giving him looks, his mother worried and Skylar curious. Eyes darting back to his other mother, he skimmed past Tris, finding her grinning in her chair. Looking at her, he shot a glare at his little sister, but it wasn't enough to get her to keep her mouth shut.  
  
“He's nervous about the dance tomorrow,” she informed them all, a grin pulling at her lips. He scowled, gritting his teeth as her grin only grew.  
  
“Is that true, Calvin?” his Mum asked, shifting so that she could reach over and place a hand on his shoulder. He rolled his eyes, shooting another glare at his sister, but knew there was no point in pretending everything was fine anymore.  
  
“It's dumb,” he growled, glaring at the wall on the other side of the room. “Dances are just dumb. I don't know why my friends want to go to it anyway.”  
  
“Hey, dancing is not dumb,” his Ma replied, raising her eyebrows at him. “Dancing is fun, and a fantastic form of exercise.”  
  
“Yeah,” Sky agreed, giving a quick nod from her spot snuggled up against Mum on the other end of the couch. “Dancing's fun!”  
  
“You're just mad cause you don't have a date,” Tris teased, smirking at him even as he stuck his tongue out at her. “Am not,” he mumbled, folding his arms in front of him. “Yeah you are,” she insisted, her smirk growing, “You want to take Alison Reynolds to the dance and are just mad cause you've been too chicken to ask her!”  
  
“Stop spying on me and my friends!” Calvin growled, grabbing the pillow next to him off the couch and chucking it at her. Tris caught it before it could hit her and only waggled her eyebrows at him. “Calvin's in loooove!” she sang, swinging the pillow a couple of times in front of her before she threw it back at him. Skylar giggled as it bounced off of his arm, tucking herself further against her Mumma's side while she watched her siblings start the pillow fight, Tris still singing about how in love Calvin was.  
  
“Calvin and Alison sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” she belted at the top of her lungs, making kiss-y faces at her brother. Before she could start the next verse she was cut off as the pillow launched through the air, this time hitting her square in the face.  
  
“Knock it off!” Cal yelled, his fists clenched beside him, hovering at the end of the couch as though he were getting ready to jump off it. “You're so annoying!”  
  
Tris opened her mouth to retort, but their blonde mother cut her off before she could get out whatever she was going to say.  
  
“Alright, alright, enough,” Clarke warned them, one eyebrow rising even as her arm remained relaxed around her youngest daughter. “Tris, stop picking on your brother, and Cal, please stop throwing things at your sister.”  
  
“She started it,” Cal grumbled quietly, shooting another glare at his sister as she stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
“You just know I'm right and don't wanna admit it,” Tris insisted, making Cal clench his jaw. Clarke shook her head at her children, getting prepared to jump in once again as soon as it looked like another pillow might go flying, but then turned her attention on her wife as Lexa got up from her chair, leaving her papers behind and grabbing the remote next to her, quickly shutting off the television. She watched the brunette move over to the side of the room, opening the small door to the stand their television stood on against the wall and pull out a little speaker. Grabbing her cellphone from her pocket, Lexa quickly plugged it into the speaker and then began to rummage through it for something.  
  
“Dancing,” she called over her shoulder, “Is an art form. But you're right Cal, school dances are probably the worst kind of dancing there is. It's just jumping up and down along with a bunch of other people. If you want to impress a girl, you have to go about it the right way.” She pressed play on her phone, and the moment the song started, Tris scrunched up her nose.  
  
“Ma, come on,” she drawled, rolling her eyes. “Nobody but you listens to this music. It's old.”  
  
_L is for the way you look at me,_  
_O is for the only one I see..._  
  
As the song continued, Lexa raised her eyebrows at her oldest daughter, the corners of her lips turning up.  
  
“First of all, if that is supposed to mean that you think I'm old for listening to it, I resent that,” she informed her, and then she looked over at Cal, her son watching her with a look that clearly told her how much he thought she'd finally gone crazy. “And second, this music is far more interesting than anything they're going to play at that dance. If you want to impress a girl, you have to make her notice you.”  
  
“Lexa, what exactly are you trying to do?” Clarke asked her, giving her a look, and the brunette just turned to her, her grin growing. Without replying to the blonde, she moved over to her, still speaking to Calvin as she continued.  
  
“First, you find a romantic song that is bound to get her attention,” she said. “Then you make it clear that the song is for her. If you are nervous or a little unsure, don't try to hide it; instead, use that to your advantage.” As though to demonstrate, when there was only a couple of feet of space between them, Lexa stuck her hand out, palm up, towards her wife. For just a second she allowed her gaze to flicker away, as though she couldn't look at the blonde for more than a few seconds at a time. “May I have this dance?” she nearly mumbled, eyes quickly flicking back to blue, and she could clearly see the amusement in them.  
  
“I should say no, just to throw you off,” Clarke replied with a roll of her eyes. Instead of dissuading her, Lexa just leaned forward and grabbed her wife's hand, urging her off the couch. Clarke's eyes widened as she was pulled up, hearing the giggle Sky let out as she took her mother's spot, watching them as Lexa pulled her into the middle of the room. Lexa gave her a small grin, and then her eyes flickered back over to Cal, still watching suspiciously from the other end of the couch.  
  
“Once you've caught her attention and she agrees to dance, you pull her to the center of the room where there's plenty of space. Other people may be watching you, but your eyes should never leave hers,” she informed her son. “Once you've found your space, you pull her into the dance.”  
  
The song had continued while she talked, and her grin only grew as she focused once again on the words.  
  
_Take my heart and please don't break it,_  
_Love, was made for me and you._  
  
As the words faded away into the instrumental, her hands moved to her wife. One fell to Clarke's waist, the other grabbing the blonde's opposite hand, and as though she couldn't resist, Clarke fell into the hold, once again shaking her head. A second later and the blonde let out a little gasp as Lexa pulled against her, gently yanking her into a dance. The brunette moved with the music, no specific dance steps leading her, simply focusing on the instruments playing from the speaker and the feel of Clarke's body against hers. She spun them, twirled the blonde, just kept moving until her wife began laughing, a huge smile breaking out across the blonde's face.  
  
“Your movement doesn't have to be choreographed,” Lexa spoke up, her voice getting louder so that she could easily be heard over the music and Clarke's laughter. Her own smile easily matched the blonde's, her eyes bright as she turned them once again, their bodies easily moving with the music. “You just have to move. Have fun. Make sure she is having fun. And don't be afraid to be a little silly.”  
  
As though to emphasize her point, she dipped Clarke once again before pulling her back up and then rocking them to the music even as she began to sing along with the song as the lyrics started up once again.  
  
_L is for the way you look at me,_  
_O is for the only one I see,_  
_V is very very, extraordinary_  
_E is even more than anyone that you adore._  
  
Clarke's grip on Lexa tightened, pulling her closer, still shaking her head, but then she began singing as well, both mothers now singing loudly as their bodies continued to move with the music.  
  
_And love is all that I can give to you,_  
_Love is more than just a game for two._  
_Two in love can make it,_  
_Take my heart and please don't break it,_  
_Love, was made for me and you._  
_Love, was made for me and you._  
_Love, was made for me and you._  
  
As the song tapered off, trumpets blaring, Clarke just started laughing, her arms wrapping around Lexa's waist and pulling them closer together. Without needing to think about it, Lexa's arms shifted to her wife's shoulders, grinning as she held her close. Looking just past the blonde and over to her son still watching, now seeming even less sure than ever, she turned her grin to him.  
  
“You see?” she asked him, gesturing to the woman in her arms, “When you pick the right song and show her that you don't care about anything other than being able to dance with her, you will have no trouble getting her attention.” She noticed Clarke roll her eyes, still unable to hide her smile, and Lexa just flashed her another grin. Focusing back on their son, she lifted her eyebrows, warning him, “But you shouldn't do this for just any girl; a dance like this is meant for someone special.”  
  
Another song began playing on her phone, and with a quick peck to her wife's lips she broke away from the embrace, quickly stepping over to it and returning it to the previous song. When "L-O-V-E" began playing again, she turned back to them all, eyes going directly to Calvin. “Alright,” she told him, giving him a nod, “Your turn. Give it a try.”  
  
“This is never going to work,” she heard him mumble, but nevertheless he pushed himself up off the couch. Stiffly he walked over to Clarke, his cheeks a little red, before he held out his hand. “Can I have this dance?” The blonde just grinned and then nodded, accepting his hand. His blush only grew when they began moving, the red beginning to trail down his neck as well as his cheeks. “This is so weird...”  
  
“Stop thinking,” Lexa told him, shaking her head a little. “Just have fun.” Moving back over to the couch, she smiled as she held her hand out to Skylar. “May I have this dance?” she asked, and Skylar's smile grew as she nodded frantically. She practically jumped off the couch and Lexa caught her, hauling her up in the air and giving her a small twirl before placing her back on the ground and twirling her again. The young girl's laughter nearly drowned out the music for just a moment, and then the lyrics were once again flowing through the room, and both sets of dance partners moved to them.  
  
Clarke looked down at her son, the red tint still more than noticeable along his cheeks and just gave him a smile. Cal rolled his eyes at her, but then as the instrumental started up again he moved, suddenly spinning her the way he'd seen his Ma do, and the blonde's brow rose in surprise even as she began laughing again. The laughter seemed to shake away the embarrassment of dancing with his mother, and soon the corners of Calvin's lips began to pull up, his dance moves odd and a little quirky and making them both laugh. Lexa grinned over at them, catching his eye and gave him a quick nod.  
  
“Yes, exactly like that,” she called over, even as she turned with Skylar, “Just have fun. If you're having fun and she's having fun, then she will remember the dance and she will remember you.”  
  
“Oh please,” she heard Tris mumble, noticing her oldest daughter roll her eyes as she watched the rest of them dance, and Lexa's grin shifted into a smirk. Tris saw it, her eyes widening, and began shaking her head. “Nu uh. Nope,” she told her, but Lexa didn't listen as she danced her way over to the chair Tris still sat in. Skylar, seeing where they were going, simply smirked as well.  
  
“Oh, you are not getting out of this,” Lexa informed her daughter, and together she and Sky pulled the older girl from her chair, Tris rolling her eyes and trying to pull away the entire time. The moment Skylar's arms wrapped around her sister's middle though, Tris's reluctance slowly melted away, never truly able to tell her sister no. She'd always been wrapped around her baby sister's finger, and somehow she knew that would never change, even if it meant being forced to dance with the rest of her crazy family.  
  
The song continued, Lexa managing to dance with both of her daughters, spinning them and just generally making them laugh, while Clarke danced with her son, watching as his blush slowly fell away and a small smile took its place. The moves, like Lexa had said, were in no way choreographed, even wild and unpredictable at times, but as the song ended and then began up once again, clearly having been placed on repeat, all five of them continued to move. They laughed and they danced and more than once were eyes rolled, Tris clearly thinking they were all lame for doing this but unable to hide her smile from any of them, and before long they were all singing, the song likely to be stuck in their heads for days after listening to it so many times.  
  
Finally the song ended once again, and as it started back up, Lexa tore herself away from her daughters, quickly moving over to her phone and pausing the music. Her kids were all breathing heavy, the many minutes of movement clearly taking its toll, and she noticed that even her wife seemed to be a little out of breath. One corner of her lips pulled up, unable to hide the small grin, but even as it did her eyes flickered to the clock on the far wall.  
  
“Alright, I think that's enough of a dancing lesson for one night,” she decided, looking back at her kids. Meeting Cal's eyes, she felt her grin grow just a little before assuring him, “If you dance with this girl you like like that tomorrow, I guarantee she'll fall for you; she would be a fool not to.” Calvin and Tris both rolled their eyes, but she ignored them. Glancing back at the clock, she told them, “But now it is time to finish your homework, and time for you,” her eyes flickered to Skylar, her grin softening, “To get ready for bed.” Both of her daughters groaned, but rather than her having to say anything, her wife stepped in.  
  
Clarke raised her eyebrows at both of her daughters. “You heard your mother,” she informed them, and then nodded towards the doorway. “Homework and jammie time.” They both groaned again, and she watched as Calvin just rolled his eyes at them.  
  
“Come on,” he said, “You know the drill.” He crouched down, giving Skylar a look, and the little girl grinned before running forward, jumping up on his back and carefully curling her arms around his neck. Standing back up, his arms moved behind him, holding his sister up, and then he nodded to Tris. “Let's go,” he just said to her, and she let out a big sigh but nodded, following him as he lead the way out of the room.  
  
Clarke watched her children leave the room, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she watched them go. Almost as soon as they were out of sight, she felt strong arms curl around her middle, a body now pressing against her from behind. She leaned back against her wife, her head falling against Lexa's shoulder, closing her eyes briefly as she felt lips press lightly against her temple.  
  
“I love you,” she heard Lexa whisper against her skin, and she didn't even try to keep her smile from growing. “I love you too,” she replied quietly, turning her head to press a light kiss to her wife's jaw. She felt as much as saw Lexa's smile, and then noticed the slight shift in the brunette's expression as an idea clearly came to her. Clarke didn't fight it when Lexa's grip on her loosened and then pulled away, instead just turning so she could watch her wife as she once again crossed the room. Thinking about what had just happened, Clarke gave her a look even as the older woman stopped in front of her phone, picking it up and once again scrolling through it.  
  
“You do realize you just taught our twelve year old son how to pick up women, right?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“No,” Lexa threw over her shoulder, “I just taught our twelve year old son how to be a gentleman, and how to pick up women successfully.” She heard Clarke let out a little scoff and turned just enough to flash the blonde a smile, reminding her, “Hey, dance is how I got you to fall in love with me, if I remember correctly.” The other woman didn't try to deny it, and Lexa felt her grin grow as Clarke shook her head.  
  
“When he comes home one day and tells us he has a girlfriend, I'm blaming you,” she swore, crossing her arms over her chest, not entirely able to hide her smile. “And when we have to give him the talk earlier than expected because of this, I'm blaming you for that too.”  
  
A new song began playing, Lexa turning the volume of the speakers down just a bit, before she turned back around. Clarke nearly bit her lip at seeing the look on her wife's face, but just stood her ground for another moment as the brunette made her way back across the room.  
  
“I will take all the blame,” she promised, her voice low, almost quiet as she all but stalked towards the blonde. “But for the moment, I would very much like it if you would dance with me.” She held out her hand again, and this time Clarke's slipped into it without pause, her body moving as though of its own accord. Her other hand moved to Lexa's shoulder at the same time Lexa's fell on her waist, and then they were pressed together, chest to chest, so close that even their thighs pressed together every now and then when they moved.  
  
_When the night has come,_  
_And the land is dark_  
_And the moon is the only night we'll see._  
_No I won't be afraid._  
_Oh I won't be afraid._  
_Just as long as you stand,_  
_Stand by me._  
  
There was no spinning, no fancy twirling with this song. As the music continued, the instruments playing softly in the background, the two women simply moved together, their bodies swaying along with the rise and fall of the instruments, Clarke easily following Lexa's lead. It wasn't exactly a slow song, not in the way most people might think of them, but they took it slow, neither feeling the need to do anything but remain close to the other as they began to turn in a slow circle. Clarke's head fell to Lexa's shoulder, her face all but pressing against the taller woman's neck, and as she felt the brunette turn into her, she let her eyes fall closed.  
  
“If the sky we look upon,” Lexa sang quietly, her lips so close to Clarke's ear that her breath tickled, “Should tumble and fall and the mountain should crumble to the sea. I won't cry, I won't cry; no I won't shed a tear, just as long as you stand, stand by me.”  
  
_And darling, darling_  
_Stand by me._  
_Oh stand by me._  
_Stand now, stand by me._  
_Stand by me._  
  
“Always,” Clarke whispered as the instrumental took over. She shifted just enough so that she could look up at Lexa, the brunette smiling softly down at her, her eyes so bright it caused something inside Clarke to break open, the simple and complete love she felt for this other woman filling her up until she barely had room to contain it. Her grip tightened and she somehow managed to hold Lexa even closer as she pushed up, closing the space between their faces until barely an inch of air kept their lips apart. “I'm always standing by you,” she finished, watching Lexa's gaze lift from her lips to her eyes. The moment their eyes met Clarke pushed forward, closing that last inch, and then her eyelids slowly fell shut as her lips pressed against Lexa's and she knew by the almost silent sigh she felt her wife give that Lexa's had too.  
  
The chorus started up again, Ben E. King's voice filling the room, and neither woman pulled away. Their bodies swayed, the voice and instruments guiding their movement, but their mouths remained pressed together, each too lost against the other to even consider breaking apart. They rocked gently from side to side, turning in a circle in the middle of their living room, and the simplicity of the movements were indeed similar to those awkward middle school slow dances, but there was nothing awkward about the way they fit together, and the gentle give and take of their lips still pressed together was far from anything any teacher would allow at any school dance.  
  
“Yuck,” they heard, followed by a loud, “Shh!” and only then did their mouths break apart, grins already pulling at their lips. They continued to sway to the song even as it tapered out, the music fading as it drew to an end, but looked over at the doorway. All three of their children stood there, Tris with her nose scrunched up, Sky with a big smile on her face, and Calvin just watching, his expression caught somewhere between grossed out and amused.  
  
“Weren't you all doing something?” Lexa asked, lifting her eyebrows at them. “I seem to recall that one of you is supposed to be getting ready for bed while the other two are supposed to be checking to make sure your homework is all done.”  
  
“I'm ready!” Skylar insisted, pointing at the pink pajamas she now wore. A second later she pointed at the couch where _Stuart Little_ still sat, looking at Clarke as she said, “But we still gotta have story time, Mumma!”  
  
“I left my homework in here,” Calvin answered, pointing to the textbook and notebook still lying at the end of the couch. As he moved to get them, Tris folded her arms over her chest, leaning against the door frame. “I don't have anymore homework,” she said with a shrug. When Lexa raised her eyebrows even higher she stiffened, and then finally gave in. “Okay, so maybe I have a little math. But it isn't even due tomorrow!”  
  
“If you work on it now, you will have less to do later,” Lexa reminded her, just making her daughter scowl. “I can help you, if you are having a difficult time with it.” Knowing her oldest daughter, she didn't understand it, and therefore was putting it off as long as possible. She knew she was right as she watched Tris look away and then sigh, her shoulders slumping forward before she nodded. “Go get it, and we will work on it until bedtime.”  
  
As Calvin left the room, books now tucked under his arms, Clarke smiled down at her youngest daughter.  
  
“Go get cozy in bed and I'll be right up,” she told her, nodding towards the hallway. The five year old nodded quickly, flashing both mothers another grin, before she turned around, she and her sister both leaving to head up the stairs.  
  
“Duty calls,” Lexa joked as she turned around to stop the music still playing, now a far more upbeat song filling the room. Clarke's hand on her arm stopped her before she could get far, and when she turned back to give her wife a look, she saw one side of the blonde's mouth turn up into a smirk.  
  
“Leave the phone,” she ordered, her fingers tightening their grip slightly against her arm. “Change it back to 'Stand By Me' and just pause it. And when you're done helping Tris with her homework, get out a bottle of wine.” She took a step forward, her body once again pressing against the brunette's, except this time Lexa knew she was the one being stalked. “I'm not done dancing with you tonight,” Clarke husked in her ear, her voice low, and Lexa felt a lump forming in her throat that made it difficult to swallow.  
  
“Alright,” she simply agreed, giving a quick nod and watched as Clarke's smile grew. The blonde pressed a quick kiss to her lips, somehow managing to take all of Lexa's breath with her when she pulled away, and gave her wife another look before she turned back to the couch, grabbing the book and leaving the room to join their youngest daughter for story time. Lexa watched her go, eyes trailing after her, managing to break away only after the blonde disappeared from sight. Shaking her head even as a small smile tugged at her lips, she turned to do as her wife had commanded.  
  
Dancing: it never failed to get the girl. If Cal followed her advice at the dance, she knew he would do just fine. 

***

The music blared through the room, so loudly that Calvin could feel its vibrations. Below it, the roar of more than a hundred kids talking and shouting and laughing filled the space, causing his heart to race in his chest. His palms were sweaty, his throat dry, and he didn't know for sure if it was the many people around him that made him so nervous or the fact that he could see Alison Reynolds on the other side of the dance floor, surrounded by her friends. He watched as she laughed, the dress she wore swaying against her legs as she and her friends danced, jumping up and down. A tiny part of him wanted to do exactly what his friends had been telling him to do all night and go over there and ask her to dance, but a much larger part of him wanted to turn and run in the opposite direction. He definitely wasn't made for this kind of thing.  
  
Glenn, one of his best friends, grabbed him by the arm and yanked him around, shouting at him to either, “Man up and go over to her or pay attention, because watching him drool was getting boring,” and he just rolled his eyes at his friend, returning Glenn's grin. Trying to focus on anything but Alison, he looked around the room, just managing to keep himself from rolling his eyes once again as he looked over at the edge of the dance floor. There he saw his mother and Lincoln, both clearly trying to talk over the noise of the music, and once again he wanted to go hide. Why they both had to volunteer to chaperone he didn't know, and when he happened to catch his mother's eye he really just wanted to go hide under a rock. He watched as her eyebrows lifted, shooting him a small encouraging smile. Green eyes flickered to where a DJ had been set up, the guy clearly in charge of the music selection, and then shifted back to him, eyebrows just lifting further. Reading the meaning behind the look, Calvin just groaned, his shoulders slumping a little.  
  
“Hey man, you alright?” Glenn asked, giving him a look. He clearly hadn't noticed the silent conversation, and now followed his friend's line of sight, finding Mrs. GW at the end of it. He nodded to Cal in sympathy, telling him, “Hey, don't worry about it. Your mom's awesome; there are way less cool parents that could have volunteered to chaperone. Like my mom; that would have sucked.” Calvin just shook his head before squaring his shoulders, a new sense of determination settling along his expression.  
  
“I'll be back,” he just told his friends, before he began making his way through the crowd towards the DJ station. It took a bit of pushing and shoving to get there, but as soon as he was he told the guy his request before he could chicken out, trying to ignore the strange look the guy gave him.  
  
“Yeah, sure thing,” he called back, his focus turning back to his music. “I'll have your song up in a bit. Got a few requests before it.” Calvin nodded, his mouth now completely dry and heart sky-rocketing in his chest. He'd made the request, now he just had to try to convince Alison to dance with him. Again his palms began to sweat.  
  
Turning around, he scanned the crowd, quickly locating his crush and her friends once again. Slowly, his legs suddenly feeling like they'd turned to lead, he began making his way over to them, partially hoping that something terrible would happen before he could get there, like a fire alarm or alien invasion, so that he wouldn't be able to go through with this. He would even accept the start of the zombie apocalypse, honestly.  
  
Neither zombies nor aliens suddenly appeared, and Calvin had to force himself to swallow when only a few feet remained between him and Alison's group. Just as he was about to take another step closer however, his eyes flickered around the room, and he stopped when he caught Monica Jensen whispering into Karyn Larson's ear, a worried expression on her face. Immediately Karyn's face fell too, and he watched as Monica grabbed Karyn's hand, the two pushing their way off the dance floor and disappearing into the hall. Calvin paused for just a second, looking back at Alison laughing with her friends, and then he followed the two girl's, his heart racing still but now for a whole other reason.  
  
“Hey,” he called, running to catch up with them. Monica and Karyn quickly turned, their expressions still worried but brightening a little when they saw him. “What's up? Where's Emma?” Emma, Monica and Karyn were all best friends, and if they both looked that worried, Calvin was pretty sure Emma had something to do with it.  
  
“Cal!” Karyn cried, relief almost coloring her tone but not quite making it. Monica shook her head, pointing behind them towards the bathrooms before telling him, “She's hiding. She was supposed to be Henry's date tonight, but she just caught him kissing Mariah.”  
  
Calvin's jaw clenched, his hands curling up into fists, but he just kept moving forward, turning his focus to the bathrooms. “Be my lookout,” he told them, and they both nodded, Monica quickly slipping inside the girl's bathroom when they reached it and then coming back out, nodding the all clear to him. Without hesitating, he pushed the door open, leaving the other two behind to warn him if anyone else came by. Hurrying down the line of stalls, he didn't have to guess which one Emma was in; he heard the sniffling as soon as he walked in the room. He stopped at the last one, knocking softly on the door.  
  
“Emma?” he called quietly, leaning lightly against the door.  
  
“What are you doing in here, Cal?” he heard back, Emma's voice heavier than usual, an obvious sign she'd been crying. “This is the girl's bathroom.”  
  
“Monica told me what happened,” he told her, not moving away. “Can I come in? Please?” There was silence for a second, and he knew Emma was debating whether or not she wanted anyone to see her at the moment. “Whether you open the door or not, I'm not leaving,” he added. “I'll just stay out here and wait, if you want, but I'm not leaving you alone.”  
  
He heard her let out a sigh, and then a moment later he heard the lock to the stall door slide out of place, and he had to move before the door opened so he wouldn't fall in the stall. As the door opened, he watched as Emma became visible, one fist settled on her hip even as she glared at him.  
  
“You know you're impossible, right?” she growled at him, but he ignored both the growl and the glare. Instead he noticed the tear tracks still visible on her cheeks, her eyes a little red from her crying. Trying to keep the mood light, he just flashed her a half grin, telling her, “Yeah, I know, but so are you.”  
  
Emma couldn't control her expression. She tried to keep the glare in place, but it quickly crumbled, a couple fresh tears leaking from her eyes and running down her face. She felt her lip quiver, and in a flash Calvin pulled her into a hug, his arms tight around her. Unable to fight it, she threw her arms around his shoulders, burying her face against his shoulder. He held her while she cried, remaining silent and letting her get it all out.  
  
“Henry's an asshole,” he murmured when she finally seemed to have stopped. He didn't let go of her even as she let out a watery laugh. “And he's also a complete idiot.”  
  
Emma shook her head, pulling back just a little bit, and Calvin caught the small smile tugging at her mouth. He flashed her one of his own, and again she shook her head, her grip around him tightening just for a moment before she finally pulled away. “Thanks Calvin,” she whispered, trying to wipe away the wet stains she could feel on her cheeks. She knew her cheeks were going to be red and her eyes were probably puffy, which meant she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to leave this bathroom any time soon. Cal noticed the movement and quickly made his way over to the sinks, grabbing a few paper towels and running them under cold water. He heard Emma follow him and then turned around, holding the damp paper towels out for her.  
  
“Hey, what are best friends for?” he asked, flashing her a grin, and again she shook her head but accepted the paper towels, returning his smile. She used the cool paper towels to wipe away her tear stains and cool her cheeks, hoping that her puffy eyes wouldn't be too noticeable. Tossing the paper towels in the garbage once she was done with them, she slumped back against one of the sinks, crossing her arms in front of her.  
  
“How much longer does this stupid thing have to go?” she asked, glaring at the door and the dance that was taking place not far from the other side of it. “Hey, don't let Henry ruin your night,” Cal told her, nudging her shoulder as he moved to stand beside her, pushing her over slightly so he too could lean against the sink. She shot him a look before rolling her eyes. “I'm pretty sure my night's already ruined, but thanks for trying Cal.”  
  
She watched Calvin frown and was about to tell him that he didn't need to stay in here with her anymore, that he should go have some fun at least, when that frown suddenly turned into a grin. His entire face brightened up and then that grin grew even before he turned to her.  
  
“Come on,” he just said, reaching over and grabbing her hand. He pulled her towards the door and for a second she pulled back, stopping him as she shot him a confused look. He glanced over his shoulder at her, flashing her a smile, before telling her, “Trust me, Em.” When he tugged on her hand again she let him, following him out of the bathroom. Monica and Karyn both stood on the other side of the door, opening their mouths to say something when they saw the two leave the bathroom, but Calvin just kept going, pulling Emma back down the hall. When she saw the open doors to the dance floor and heard the pounding music inside, she wanted to stop again, wanted to pull herself out of Calvin's grip and flee back to the bathroom, but she did trust Calvin, more than she trusted most people, so she let him lead her back into the room.  
  
For a minute or two they just stood at the edge of the dance floor, Calvin shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously as though he were waiting for something. Emma shot him a curious look, about to ask him what he was waiting for or even what he was doing, when the music changed, one song ending and another, very different song taking its place.  
  
_When the night has come,_  
_And the land is dark..._  
  
Everyone who had been dancing suddenly stopped, confusion clearly taking over, a few people looking up at the speakers and others looking at the DJ who just shrugged before turning back to his laptop. Emma had no idea what was going on, and her confusion only grew when Calvin began tugging on her hand again, dragging her out to the middle of the dance floor. He found some space where the crowd had parted, some people leaving to find a drink while the weird old music played, others still looking around and trying to figure out what was going on, and then let go of his grip on Emma's hand. Turning, he held his hand back out to her, flashing her a little smile as he asked her loudly, “May I have this dance?”  
  
“What?” Emma just asked him, clearly very confused as to what was happening, and then Cal once again held her hand and his other one was on her waist. Before she really knew what was happening, he spun her carefully, other people shifting to get out of their way, and then he began to sway with her, still spinning her every now and then, and Emma was laughing, still not entirely sure what was going on but happily dancing with her best friend. As the song continued and she got more into it, she quickly forgot all about the boy she was supposed to be at the dance with, and focused only on her best friend, the two of them laughing together as everyone else moved, watching them dance. Neither of them cared about the other people around them, and just continued to have fun spinning each other and swaying together.  
  
Lexa watched as her son spun Emma, unable to hide her smile. She felt someone nudge her arm and looked over, meeting Lincoln's raised eyebrow even as he held out a cup of water for her. She accepted it with a nod of thanks, and then watched as his head nodded, gesturing over to where their children continued to sway together on the dance floor.  
  
“Why do I think you had something to do with this?” he simply asked, his own smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Lexa simply met the look with as much of a controlled expression as she could, fighting to contain her own smile. Bringing her cup to her lips, she told him, “I do not know what you're talking about.” Taking a sip of her water, her eyes flickered back to one of her best friends, finding him shaking his head.  
  
“Liar,” he accused before taking a drink of his own water. Lexa merely lifted her head, still controlling her expression as her gaze shifted to once again watch her son dance with Emma. Her control broke as she saw them both start laughing, and she no longer tried to hide her smile. She felt Lincoln shift beside her, also turning to watch them, and he joked, “Your son better be careful how he treats my daughter. I call dad rights.”  
  
Lexa's brow simply rose, eyes never leaving her son, as she informed Lincoln, “My son is a gentleman.” Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Lincoln shake his head, still grinning, and then the two just watched their children dance as the song came to an end, another one immediately starting up. As soon as it did the other kids began dancing again, Calvin and Emma's friends all swarming around them. As they moved, Lexa watched Cal continue to laugh with his friends, he and Emma remaining side-by-side, and she could visibly see how much more comfortable he'd become.  
  
She'd been right: he chose the right girl, and he'd done just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lexa's teaching her son how to be a gentleman and how to get the girl; if he follows her advise, I think he'll do just fine with that. ;)
> 
> As I think I've said before, this story is going to be all over the place in the timeline. That means a lot of things won't make sense for a while, I know, but I promise all things will be explained as the story goes on. So if you're reading a chapter and suddenly think, "Wait, when did that happen?," it probably hasn't yet been explained, but it will be. So I thank you all for your patience, and I hope you enjoy seeing how the pieces all come together! Thanks friends, and until next time!


	5. Chapter Five - Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Calvin is 21, Tris is 18, and Skylar is 14. The songs referenced are "You Make Me Feel So Young," by Frank Sinatra, and "My Shot" and "Story of Tonight," from the musical _Hamilton_.

_Nine Years Later_

“You have _got_ to be kidding me.”  
  
Cal flashed his laptop screen a grin, even as he finished pulling his belt through the loops of his black slacks. “Hello to you too,” he just replied, eyes darting away from his laptop so he could focus back on his pants, smoothing out the slight wrinkles that had formed in them after being hung on a coat hanger for too long. He didn't look away fast enough to miss seeing Emma's eyes roll, the exasperated look she shot him doing nothing to tear down his grin.  
  
“You're doing this again?” she groaned, the slightly amused tone of her voice easily carrying through his laptop's speakers. “It's Halloween, Cal; you could dress up as anything, anything at all, and you decide to do this. Again. Seriously?”  
  
Glancing at the long mirror hanging on the wall across from him, Calvin began to do up the buttons on his long-sleeve white shirt, smoothing out its wrinkles also as he moved.  
  
“Hey, this is a classic now, and you can't mess with a classic,” he informed her, briefly looking back over at his laptop, only to find Emma shaking her head, a bemused smile tugging at her lips. “Besides,” he added, re-focusing on the buttons of his shirt, “This never fails. I have every intention of getting lucky tonight, and you know there are very few women who can resist this. As all the vampires and zombies are getting rejected when all they can do is grind on the people around them, I'll be spinning a beautiful woman around the dance floor.” He looked back at Emma, his grin growing, before he reminded her, “Don't try to deny it works; if I remember right, you were the first girl this worked on.”  
  
“Oh my god, you are so _full_ of yourself!” she let out with a laugh, pinching the bridge of her nose to try to control her grin. Her eyebrows rose as she added, “And also, don't flatter yourself, Woods. You know very well that I was only susceptible to your charm that night because I'd just had my heart broken.”  
  
“So you admit, I'm charming,” Cal said, turning back towards his laptop as his last button fell into place. He wiggled his eyebrows as he watched Emma roll her eyes again, before walking over to his desk and leaning against it, his face appearing in the small pop-up on the bottom right corner of the screen, while Emma and her room filled the rest of it. “See, there's that ego again,” she told him, and he just shrugged, not going to deny what they both knew was at least a little true. He stared thoughtfully at the screen for a second, trying to remember something, and then asked curiously, “Who was it that you were supposed to be at that dance with again? I don't remember anything except for finding you crying in the bathroom and then us dancing.”  
  
Emma just shrugged, waving her hand as though to brush the question aside. “I can't even remember the names of all the people we graduated high school with, you think I remember the name of one kid who made me cry at a middle school dance?” This time it was Calvin's eyebrows that rose, silently telling her that he had no doubt she remembered. She met the look, returning it for a few seconds, and then let out a loud sigh. “Fine,” she growled. “It was Henry Donalson.”  
  
“Henry Donalson,” Cal repeated, trying to remember which of their former class members that was. “Wasn't he the one who threw a paint can in a camp fire junior year and ended up in the emergency room?”  
  
“That's the one,” she told him. “You really picked a winner,” he teased, grinning again when she stuck her tongue out at him. Pushing himself away from the desk, he walked over to the end of his bed where he'd laid out his tie and suit jacket, quickly grabbing the tie and letting it drop around his neck.  
  
“The point still stands that you should maybe try being something else for Halloween this year,” Emma insisted, eyes following his movements as he began to tie his tie, his focus back on the mirror.  
  
“Why screw with something that works?” he wanted to know, not looking away from his reflection as he continued to fiddle with the tie. “This has never failed me, and besides, this is at least original. Why be another cowboy or cop or whatever when no one else ever thinks to do this?”  
  
“Okay, fine, I give up,” Emma said, throwing her hands up, shaking her head. “Do what you want, I won't try to stop you anymore.”  
  
“Thank you,” he shot her, giving her a grin over his shoulder. She returned the grin with an eye roll, unable to keep her lips from turning up, before asking, “So what's the song you will use to woo those poor ladies with tonight?” Her question just made his grin grow, and without a word he moved over to his phone, quickly scrolling through it, and then a song began to play, loud enough for Emma to hear it through the laptop, and as Cal began to sway with the instrumental at the beginning, she just shook her head again.  
  
_You make me feel so young._  
_You make me feel so Spring has sprung._  
_And every time I see you grin,_  
_I'm such a happy individual._  
  
“Ah, Sinatra. Very good choice,” she said, nodding as she watched him casually twist, still swaying slightly as he moved.  
  
“Frank is my man,” Calvin agreed, sidling back to the desk and pausing the song before it could go on much further. “I can never go wrong with him.”  
  
“Okay but they aren't just going to let you start playing Frank Sinatra at a college Halloween dance,” she reminded him. “This isn't like high school when you could just bribe the DJ.”  
  
“Hey, I never bribed anyone,” he exclaimed, pretending to be offended just by the insinuation. He then shrugged, telling her, “And yeah, I know, but don't worry, I've got that figured out. I'll find a beautiful woman at the dance, charm her, and then when I bring her back here I'll ask her for just one more dance, and then I'll play the Sinatra, twirl her around the room, and she'll be more than happy when we fall into bed together after.” He winked at her, entirely proud of himself, and once again she couldn't help it when the corners of her mouth tugged up into a grin that nearly matched his.  
  
“Damn, if only Lexa knew what she'd done when she taught you how to dance with a woman,” she scoffed. “If she could only see the monster she created, she'd probably regret it.”  
  
“Hey, my mother taught me to be a gentleman,” he protested, his chin jutting out as he lifted his head higher. “And I am nothing less than gentlemanly. Believe me.” She groaned as he winked at her, holding up a hand as though to stop him from saying anything more, and he almost laughed before grabbing his suit jacket from the bed and shrugging into it. Once completely dressed, he finally sat at his desk, turning his entire attention to his best friend, and when he did he couldn't help but smirk at her. “So a pirate, huh?”  
  
Now sitting, he could really focus on his friend, and when he noticed her own costume, he just shook his head. With her sitting down, he couldn't see the entire thing, but what he did see made it pretty obvious what she was going for. A bandana tied her thick hair back, keeping it out of her face, and an eye patch currently hung around her neck next to a long golden necklace, clearly not ready to be worn in place yet. A tight blue corset clung to her, a good amount of her chest still bare, her dark caramel skin on display. For the moment, a long and tattered black jacket hung over her shoulders, but he didn't doubt that it would come off shortly after she started dancing at her own school's dance.  
  
“Hey, you're not the only one planning on getting some booty tonight,” she replied, grinning as he let out a loud groan. “That was terrible and you know it,” he informed her and she just shrugged. “Whatever. Bad pun aside, I have every intention of getting laid tonight.”  
  
“Fuck yeah you do!” Cal heard someone nearly shout, and his grin grew as he saw the same someone move into view of Emma's laptop screen. Emma's roommate Kate pushed a shot glass into her hand before pushing her over so that they both managed to sit, the other girl practically falling into the chair and making him wonder how many of those she'd already done. Holding her own shot glass up and away from the computer, she looked at the screen, and Calvin heard her let out a whistle.  
  
“Damn, somebody knows how to dress,” she told him, her eyes clearly raking over him. “What're you supposed to be?”  
  
Calvin leaned forward, one hand going to his jacket, the other brushing through his hair before he replied, “I'm the man of your dreams.” He saw Emma roll her eyes before downing her shot, wincing a little at the strength of the alcohol, but his focus was quickly pulled back to Kate.  
  
“Mm, hell yeah you are,” she agreed, her grip on her own shot glass visibly tightening slightly. She leaned forward, one elbow moving to the edge of the desk as she leaned in closer to the laptop, still eyeing him up and down. “So Cal, when's the next time you'll be visiting Emma? And what do you say to making my dream come true?” She shot him a wink before taking her own shot, and when a little bit of the alcohol dribbled down her chin, her tongue followed after, catching the small drops.  
  
Calvin followed the motion, but didn't let it get to him like he knew it was meant to.  
  
“Sorry Kate, but that's against the rules,” he told her, eyes flicking back to Emma. She folded her arms in front of her, nodding, as he continued, “Em and I agreed a long time ago that our friends are off-limits from each other. Things get messy when you cross too many lines.”  
  
“Aww c'mon, Emma'll make an exception for me, won't you?” Kate insisted, turning to face her best friend and roommate as she finished, only to find the other girl giving her a look. “Well I mean hey, one of us at least should sleep with him, and if it's not gonna be you then it should be me.”  
  
“Hell no,” Emma shot her down without a second thought. “You and Calvin are never sleeping together. No way.” Kate shot her a small glare before turning back to Calvin, seeing his small grin. “Come on Cal, we don't have to listen to her,” she tried, wiggling her eyebrows. “I'm telling you, we'd have a lot of fun together.”  
  
“Sorry Kate, but I'm not a rule-breaker,” he informed her. “Emma and I made a deal, and I gotta stick to it.”  
  
Kate sighed wistfully, but then shrugged, even as she stood up. “Okay, have it your way, but you don't know what you're missing. You'd never forget a night with me.”  
  
“I'm sure I wouldn't,” he agreed, and she just gave him another wink before turning back to her friend. “But Emma, unless you're gonna convince him to take off that incredibly nice suit and the two of you are gonna have Skype-sex, finish up soon; we're all putting on a nice buzz before the dance, and you're missing out.”  
  
Emma just waved at her, a half-hearted gesture. “I'll be out when we're done, and no, we aren't going to have Skype-sex. For the hundredth time, we're just friends.”  
  
“Shame,” Kate muttered before she sent another wink towards Calvin and then disappeared out of her friend's room. Emma rolled her eyes as she disappeared, turning back to find her best friend smirking at her.  
  
“At some point it's going to get through her thick head that you and I really are just best friends,” she insisted. “Not friends with benefits, not friends that get naked together sometimes, not friends that make out, just friends.”  
  
“Really, you're not used to this by now?” Calvin asked, raising an eyebrow. “I think everyone we know has accused us of being together at some point.”  
  
“Yeah, right, because a guy and a girl can't just be best friends without wanting to fuck each other, that just doesn't happen,” Emma replied, rolling her eyes, repeating the same words she'd heard over and over throughout her life from different people. Sometimes she wondered if anyone but their families truly understood her relationship with Calvin. Other times she wondered if it even mattered.  
  
Choosing to ignore Emma's tone – he'd heard it before, knew how much it bothered her whenever anyone accused them of sleeping together, and he got it, it annoyed him too, but he saw no reason to let it ruin their talk – he leaned back in his chair, balancing it on its rear legs. “We're an odd pair Em, you know that. I don't think the world could take it if we did hook up.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, even as her forehead scrunched up, a partially joking, partially disgusted look pulling at her features.  
  
“Ew, yeah, no, I can't even imagine sleeping with you,” she groaned. When he raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended, she rolled her eyes. “Not that I doubt your sexual prowess. I'm sure you're a great time, but just the thought of seeing you naked makes my skin crawl.”  
  
“Hm,” Cal huffed, still playing at being offended. Tilting his head back, he glanced away from the laptop as though to ignore her. “That's fine, you're not my type either.”  
  
“Oh, I'm everyone's type,” she promised, her lips curling up into a mischievous smile as she winked at him. “Trust me. I have no desire to sleep with you, but to quote Kate, you have no idea what you're missing.”  
  
Turning back to shoot her a grin, his eyes swept over the corner of his desk where his work from earlier still sat, the pencil resting half on the page he'd been working on before deciding he needed to shower and start getting ready for the dance. The last few panels still didn't look right to him and his palm itched, his fingers twitching slightly as they ached to pick the pencil up once again and bend over the page for hours until it was right, until the lines and slopes and dialogue were all just the way he wanted them and ready to be inked. Now wasn't the time; now was the time to keep getting ready so that he could go meet his friends and make their way to the dance where he'd hopefully find a beautiful woman to spend the night with, but he knew a good portion of the rest of his weekend would be spent here at this desk, working to get the latest issue completed.  
  
Completing his look back towards the laptop, he found Emma watching him, absentmindedly spinning the now empty shot glass in front of her, her fingers holding it lightly along its rim.  
  
“So how many of those have you had?” he asked her, nodding towards the empty glass, and she shrugged.  
  
“Just two, so far,” she answered, eyes darting down to the glass before looking back up. “But I plan to have more.” She watched him nod, his eyes still on the glass. “You could have one or two yourself you know, if you wanted. I'm sure any one of your friends would be glad to share from the flasks I guarantee they'll be sneaking into the dance.”  
  
“I'm good,” he said, brushing the idea off entirely, and even though he looked away, he could still feel her studying him. He could hear it, the shift in her tone when she continued almost softly, “You know it's not going to turn you into him, Cal. You're nothing like him. You can have a drink every once in a while, if you want.”  
  
“I know,” he told her, but he could tell by the way her expression pulled tight that she didn't believe him. “I just don't like it, you know that. The few times I've been drunk, I just didn't like the feeling.” He felt her studying him for a moment before she shrugged, and only then did he glance back up, meeting her eyes again.  
  
“Okay,” she just said, letting the matter drop. One corner of her mouth pulled back up as she began twirling the shot glass again. “I however do, and very much look forward to the buzz that awaits me.”  
  
Calvin rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself, and was about to reply when his phone lit up next to him, vibrating against the surface of his desk. Tris's picture flashed across the screen, the one he'd taken of her in her hockey uniform at the last game he went to, and his smile grew. Holding up his finger to his laptop and Emma, he picked the phone up, immediately seeing that his sister was trying to FaceTime him. Grinning at his friend who clearly had noticed the phone in his hand, he accepted the call.  
  
As his phone's screen lit up with a new image, the first thing he noticed was the loud music blaring in the background. The second thing was Tris's face, a deep scowl pulling at her brow as she glared into the phone.  
  
“Make. Her. Stop,” he heard his sister growl, her eyes piercing into the phone.  
  
Before he could say anything, he heard his younger sister, clearly no more than a few feet away from Tris but not close enough for him to see on screen, all but shouting to be heard above the music.  
  
“...And I am not throwing away my shot, I am not throwing away my shot. I am just like my country, I'm young scrappy and hungry and I am not throwing away my shot!”  
  
As the song continued and so did Skylar's singing, Cal had to fight to keep his grin in check.  
  
“What, you can't take a little revolution, Tris?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Clearly his sister was past any kind of humor, because her scowl only deepened.  
  
“You have no idea,” she growled, clearly at the end of her rope. “You moved out before it started. It's every day. Every. Damn. Day. When she's not playing it it's playing in my head because I hear it so often. Cal, seriously, make it stop!”  
  
“What she isn't telling you,” he heard called, and the screen lurched for a second, Tris's hand clearly tugged to one side, until Skylar appeared on the screen. He had to fight not to laugh when he saw her: she wore a long dark blue jacket over a collared white shirt and dark brown skinny jeans, her auburn hair tied back in a tight ponytail and what appeared to be a fake sword strapped at her waist. “Is that if it weren't for me listening to _Hamilton_ so much, she would have failed her test on the Revolutionary War last year.”  
  
“It helped me with _one_ question!” Tris yelled, suddenly appearing in the screen beside her sister and shooting a glare at her. “Maybe two! And it's been a _year_ ; can't you take a break from that soundtrack, for the love of God and all things holy!”  
  
Sky simply raised her eyebrows at her sister. She took a breath, and then, as the first song ended and the next started:  
  
“I may not live to see our glory (I may not live to see our glory). But I will gladly join the fight (But I will gladly join the fight). And when our children tell our story (And when our children tell our story), they'll tell the story of tonight (they'll tell the story of tonight).”  
  
Tris's nostrils flared, an obvious sign even from a phone screen that she was getting ready to strangle their sister. Cal decided it was time for him to jump in.  
  
“Okay okay,” he interrupted Skylar, somehow managing to get her to break off from the song. “Come on Sky, just turn it down some, okay? Don't be obnoxious.” He looked up, meeting Emma's eyes, his friend clearly listening to the entire conversation, and tried not to return her grin.  
  
“This isn't obnoxious, it's amazing!” Sky declared, and now it was her turn to glare at her brother. “Do you know how many Tony's this show won? Do you have any idea how this show has affected the Broadway community since it opened? It's over two and a half hours of pure, amazing hip hop amazingness!”  
  
He raised an eyebrow at her. “You said amazing twice.”  
  
“That's how amazing it is!” she cried, throwing one hand up while the other shifted to grab the handle of her fake sword tightly. “It needs to be said twice!”  
  
“That doesn't mean you need to play it every single second you're awake!” Tris yelled, throwing up the hand that wasn't still holding the phone, and Calvin watched as Skylar just rolled her eyes at her sister.  
  
“Skylar, maybe you could give it a rest for a little while?” Emma spoke up. Cal held his phone close enough to the laptop that he knew they'd be able to hear her as she continued. “Take a break from the soundtrack just for a little while, before Tris ends up locking you in your room and shredding every trace of your songs.”  
  
Even as Emma spoke, Calvin watched as his youngest sister's eyes widened, her jaw falling just slightly open. “Who's that?” she asked, her tone suddenly changing, and rather than answer, he just flipped his phone around, showing his sisters Emma on his laptop. “Em and I were in the middle of a Skype date when you two called,” he explained as Emma waved at them.  
  
Before he could even get the phone turned back around, Skylar had disappeared. Tris's face was turned by the time he could see her again, clearly watching their sister flee.  
  
“Well now you've done it,” she commented, her tone a little flat. “She'll probably stay holed up in her room for a week. Or she would, if she didn't have a party to go to tonight. But her face'll still probably be red when she gets there.”  
  
Calvin rolled his eyes, shifting a few books on his desk so he could lean the phone up against them. His phone and laptop now stood about a foot apart, Emma watching him from one while Tris watched from the other, both screens tilted just enough that they could see each other as well. He rolled his eyes, once again leaning back in his chair.  
  
“Does she seriously still have that crush on Emma?” he asked, looking back and forth between the two of them, watching Tris roll her eyes back at him and Emma smile smugly.  
  
“Yep,” his sister simply answered, and he watched as she and the screen moved before she plopped herself down on the couch, laying with her head on one of the armrests. She squirmed for a second before he saw her yank a pillow out from beneath her back and then toss it to the floor beside her. “Still have no idea where that came from, but yeah, I guess she's still got it.” As she finished talking, the music still in the background suddenly quieted, now barely audible, and Tris threw her free hand up again. “Finally!”  
  
“Hey, at least one of you Griffin-Woods kids have taste,” Emma spoke up. When Cal looked over at her she leaned back as well, nearly mirroring his pose, telling him as she did so, “I always knew Skylar was my favorite for a reason.”  
  
“Stay away from my sister, Birch,” he warned jokingly, and she just flipped her hand at him.  
  
“Your sister is safe from me, Woods,” she informed him. “She's a little young for me. And I'm not into women. But that doesn't mean she doesn't still have good taste.”  
  
“Yeah, cause it's a great idea to get a crush on someone who's seven years older than you,” Tris butted in, rolling her eyes. Emma looked over at her, shrugging. “Hey, you don't control who you get a crush on, Tris. It just happens. I'm sure Sky's crush won't last long before she's found somebody new, probably closer to her age.”  
  
“Nah, I'd rather she continue to crush on you,” Tris told her. “At least I know with you nothing's actually gonna happen.” Cal could practically see Tris clenching her jaw, thinking about any other possibility, the look only getting darker as Emma said, “You do know that she's going to be in a relationship someday, Tris, and there's nothing you can do about that.”  
  
“Watch me,” Tris argued, her lips pursing. She'd always been overprotective of her sister, the need to take care of and protect her developing between them when Sky was a baby and Tris only a few years old, and Cal could see those same emotions and fears beginning to cloud over his sister's face. As much as she refused to talk about it, he knew that even now, after being a part of their family for so many years, those same feelings were rooted too deeply inside her for her to ever ignore.  
  
Rather than let those emotions run wild, Calvin decided to distract her. “So tell me, why'd you call me?” he asked, letting his chair fall forward so that all four legs were once again on the floor. He leaned a little closer to the two screens, looking at his phone as he continued, “Why not get one of the mothers to make Sky turn the music down? Would have been a lot easier, since you're all in the same house.”  
  
Tris scoffed, the tension along her facial muscles almost immediately leaking away as she rolled her eyes again. Meeting his raised eyebrow, she informed them, “They aren't here. One of Mum's work friends is having a Halloween 'get-together,' so they went to that.” She scrunched up her nose, clearly telling them what she thought of that as she added, “They went dressed as witches, hats and everything.”  
  
“So, what's wrong with that?” Emma asked, tilting her head ever so slightly. She glanced at Calvin, grinning before telling them, “Witches are better than dressing up as the man of every girl's dream. Or woman, I guess.” Cal let out a laugh, tilting his head up as he once again rocked back on his chair. “Please, I can absolutely see my Ma doing that.” He frowned for a second, thinking, before saying, “Actually, I could see either one of them doing that.”  
  
“It doesn't matter what they're dressed up as, it matters that they're dressed up at all,” Tris cut in. “When you're old enough that you go to 'get-togethers' instead of parties, you're too old to dress up for Halloween.”  
  
“Okay, you do realize that if Ma knew you were calling her old she'd challenge you to like a five mile run and almost definitely kick your ass, right?” Calvin asked her, grinning when his sister just glared at him. “What, are you jealous because they have something to do tonight? What are you still doing at the house? No Halloween plans?”  
  
“I've got plans,” Tris argued, crossing her arms over her chest. The phone moved with her, and suddenly all Cal could see for a few seconds was the bottom of her chin before she shifted, moving the phone into a better view again. “The team's getting together later at Gabby and Jack's and having a party. I'm dropping Sky off at her own party on my way over.”  
  
“What're you dressing up as?” Emma asked while Cal sat quietly, and Tris's shoulders hunched into a shrug. “Don't know, I'll throw something together,” his sister replied. “Halloween's really not my thing, but I'll take the excuse for a party.”  
  
“Text me later,” Cal told her, an unnecessary worry gnawing at his gut. “When you get home, or just later tonight, I don't care. In the morning, at the latest.”  
  
Any trace of joking or annoyance wiped away as Tris's expression softened just slightly. “I will,” she promised quietly. Then, to keep things from getting too serious, she added jokingly, “But really, someday you're gonna have to stop playing the big brother card on me.”  
  
“I'll stop playing the big brother card on you the same day you stop playing the big sister card on Sky,” he told her, and just grinned as she swore. Both knew that day was never likely to come; both felt a little better with that knowledge, even if they'd never actually talk about it.  
  
Glancing over at the clock Calvin knew hung on the wall across from her, Tris let out a little sigh. “Alright, as fun as this has been, I'm hanging up now. I still have some time to call Jonas before we gotta leave for our parties, and no offense, but talking with him is more fun.”  
  
“You just want to tell him you love him,” Emma teased, flashing a little grin at the other girl. “And want him to tell you he loves you too.” Tris rolled her eyes, but Cal smirked as he watched her cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink, barely noticeable but definitely there.  
  
“Not true,” she argued. “We just haven't talked in a while and I figure it'd be good to check in and see what he's up to tonight.”  
  
“My guess is he's going to his school's dance,” Cal told her, at the same time Emma said, “Oh please, I bet you've talked with him more recently than I have. I'd be willing to bet it hasn't even been twenty-four hours since you've talked.”  
  
“You're both boring me,” Tris said, ignoring them both. “Goodnight. Enjoy your sexscapades. Be safe, and all that shit.”  
  
“Night Tris,” Emma replied with a little wave. “Tell my little brother I say hi and that I don't appreciate the fact he never calls me. Remind him I am still perfectly capable of kicking his butt.” Tris nodded, not even trying to hide her grin, before saying, “I'll tell him, and yeah, you totally could.”  
  
“Night,” Cal told her, and when she looked back over to him he reminded her, “And seriously, text me later.” She rolled her eyes, letting out another sigh, but he knew it was more for show than from annoyance. “I will,” she promised. One corner of her mouth twitched up, before she added, “And I'll be sure to let the moms know what you dressed up as for Halloween. Ma will be so proud.” He flashed her a grin, nodding. “She really will though. I'm putting those dance lessons to good use.” Tris let out a little laugh even as she shook her head, before ending the call, and then her face disappeared from his phone as the screen went dark.  
  
As soon as it did, he looked back over at Emma, finding a small grin on her face. “What is it you Birchs have done to my sisters?” he wanted to know. Her grin widened as she leaned forward, propping her chin in her hands as her elbows rested on her desk. “Like I said before, I'm everyone's type,” she answered and then shrugged. “And I guess Jojo takes after me. You Griffin-Woods kids don't stand a chance. Just wait, Sky will realize she doesn't have a crush on me and turn to one of the twins instead. We've got it in our blood.”  
  
“Ha,” Cal scoffed, standing up from his chair, “The day that Sky develops a crush on either Andy or Olivia is probably the day the world will end.” Emma tried to control her facial muscles, tried to maintain a straight face, but it quickly fell away, and she ended up just shaking her head.  
  
“You're right,” she gave in. “They are both a bit more... rambunctious than me or Jonas. I don't see Skylar ever being able to put up with their energy.”  
  
“Nope, not at all,” Cal said, strolling over to the mirror on the wall. He looked at his reflection, straightening out his suit jacket and then his tie, and ran his hand through his hair. Glancing back over at his computer, he asked, “What do you think? Slick the hair back or leave it alone?”  
  
He caught Emma's eye, flashing her a smile, and she just shook her head.  
  
“It would be a crime to slick back those curls of yours and you know it,” she told him and his smile quirked up before he nodded. “Leave it alone it is, then.”  
  
He moved back towards the desk, fidgeting with his clothes as he did, and he saw Emma open her mouth to say something before she was loudly interrupted.  
  
“Emma! Get off the computer with your sexy not-boyfriend and come drink with us! You're three shots behind already!” She rolled her eyes at her friends, hearing them all talking over one another in the other room, and then turned back to Calvin, finding him still smiling at her.  
  
“It sounds like I'm needed elsewhere,” she informed him, and he nodded before gesturing behind her. “Go ahead,” he told her, “Have a good time. Just be careful, okay?”  
  
“I'm always careful, Cal,” she reminded him, raising her eyebrows at him. He shrugged, smiling easily as he continued to fiddle with his jacket, telling her, “I know, but still. Be careful. And text me later.”  
  
Emma felt warmth spreading throughout her chest. She knew the request wasn't just because he wanted her to tell him about her night; he wanted to make sure she was okay, make sure she made it back to her room safely after a night of drinking and partying. He was only half paying attention now, but she knew he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight until he knew that both she and his sister were safely home from their respective partying. Worrying about the people he loved was just a part of who he was.  
  
“I will,” she told him quietly. “Love ya, Cal.”  
  
“Mm, you too,” he replied, still only half paying attention, and she shook her head. “You know, one of these days I'm going to get you to say it back to me.” That seemed to grab his attention, and he looked back over at her, forgetting about his suit.  
  
“What?” he asked, and Emma felt herself grin. “One of these days I'm going to get you to tell me you love me too. It'll be a great day. There'll be a party, and probably cake. It'll be a fun time for all,” she teased. Calvin shifted, his muscles suddenly tense. Without meaning to, he felt his hands clench and unclench into fists.  
  
“It's not that I... not that I don't,” he murmured, his tone suddenly quiet. He looked away and then back, his throat getting dry as his heart started to race in his chest. “You know that. I do, I just... you know.”  
  
Emma did know, and for a second she almost felt guilty for bringing it up. She'd known Calvin for about as long as anyone, and knew him better than almost everyone else. She knew that he had a hard time expressing his emotions, even now, especially intense ones. Even now she knew that the only people he ever said those few little words to were his immediate family, just his mothers and his sisters; he just couldn't get them out for anyone else. It had been the root cause that ended at least a couple of his relationships because those girls just hadn't understood why he couldn't tell them those three simple words that carried the weight and complexity of the world for him.  
  
“I do know,” she agreed quietly, her voice soft so as to help him remain calm. When his eyes flickered to hers she met them, giving him a reassuring smile. “I know, Cal, and I get it. I just like to think that maybe one day I'll get to hear them from you. But if not, you're right, I do know it anyway.”  
  
Calvin licked his lips, trying to ignore the fact his mouth had gone dry, and just nodded. “You'll hear them,” he promised. “Someday. Because I, I do. You know. Just...”  
  
“Not today,” she finished for him, nodding, and just continued to give him a smile. “And that's fine. It doesn't have to be today, or any time soon, or even have to happen at all. Whether you say it or not, I know you do, and I love you too.” Her smile flashed into a grin then, trying to lighten the mood, before she added, “But I still have no desire to ever see you naked. I'll leave that privilege to whatever girl you meet tonight. Just be careful you don't charm her too much, or I might not be the only girl wanting to hear those words from you before too long.” She winked at him, and could practically see the tension leaking out of his body.  
  
“Don't worry, I'll only be so charming,” he promised, one hand moving once again to his tie and straightening it as he let his lips curl up into a smile. His heart still beat heavily against his ribcage, but he ignored it, knowing that Emma understood him. She'd always understood him. “It'll be a challenge, but I'll tone it down so that she only wants me for one night.”  
  
“Oh my God your ego,” Emma groaned, smacking her forehead, but she couldn't and didn't try to fight the way her lips continued to curl upwards. It was laughable, really, the way he joked when in reality he was one of the least egotistical people she knew. It was fun though, so she just played along. “I need to go now before your ego becomes so large it seeps into my laptop and starts to infect me too.”  
  
“Now that's something the world wouldn't be ready for,” he said. His grin softened, falling into a small smile, before he told her seriously, “Have fun tonight, Em. Text me whenever you want or need to.”  
  
She could have kept the joking up, pointing out that if he was planning on bringing a girl home tonight there was likely going to be a period of time he was too busy to answer, but she didn't. She knew that he would answer, that he'd keep his phone on no matter how well the dance went for him, and that when she did text him, she'd have a reply only a few minutes later. He was just good like that. She may never want to see him naked, but she still couldn't imagine a life without him.  
  
“I'll text you, Calvin, don't worry,” she said instead. “You have a good night too. Talk again in a few days?”  
  
“Sure,” he agreed, knowing she meant another Skype date. “We'll figure out when later.” They both heard more yelling from outside Emma's room, and his smile grew again. “Right now I think there are other people who need your attention.” She returned his smile, even as her fingers wrapped around the empty shot glass in front of her again. Holding it up in a cheers, she told him, “Happy Halloween, Cal!”  
  
“Happy Halloween, Emma,” he replied with a quick nod, and a second later his laptop screen flashed briefly as she ended the call. He let out a little sigh before reaching forward and closing the laptop and grabbing his cellphone. Quickly he fired a text to one of the friends he'd planned to meet up with, checking to see if he was ready, and then slipped the phone into his pocket. His hand stayed there, arm casually bent at his side, and then he looked back into the mirror.  
  
He grinned. Emma had been right; his dark curls definitely completed the outfit. His free hand reached up to sweep them out of his eyes, and then he felt his chin tilt up. Time to go have some fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the lack of Clarke or Lexa in this chapter. There won't be many that don't have either of them in it (I can't think of any others I have planned right now that don't, in fact), so please don't worry about that, if you were. I had thought I would put this chapter later on in the story once you all know a little more about Cal and Tris and Sky, but after last chapter and due to the fact that it's almost Halloween, I felt that it actually fits quite well here. Also, the fact that this is a Halloween-centric chapter does not mean I don't plan on getting another chapter up before the end of the month; again, it just seemed to fit well here. I have absolutely every intention of updating again soon, and when I do we'll be going back in time and learning more about how Tris and Sky became a part of this amazing family. Thank you all for your patience between updates, and I will see you again soon!


	6. Chapter Six - Tris and Skylar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of these days I'll be able to stop apologizing for my lateness. This however, is not one of those days. All I can say is I've been really busy with work and life and had a hard time getting this chapter together and getting it to feel right. So I am sorry for the long wait, but I hope it was worth it!

_Thirteen Years Earlier_

Octavia tapped her fingers against her cup of coffee, trying to subtly study the woman across the table from her without being noticed. Beneath the table, she could feel the woman's leg bouncing up and down, a nervous habit that Octavia knew she shared, but at the moment her own legs were still. It felt as though her entire body had gone still, quiet nerves of anticipation humming beneath her skin, waiting to break out at a moment's notice. Only her fingers moved, the steady _tap tap tap_ nearly keeping rhythm with the leg beneath the table as she tried to wait for the woman to break the silence between them.  
  
Everyone who knew her knew Octavia had never been a patient person, and this moment proved to be no different than countless others.  
  
“So,” she finally said, breaking the silence, and caught Keenan's gaze as her eyes flickered up from her own drink to meet Octavia's. “How have you been?”  
  
The woman she hadn't seen since college simply shrugged her shoulders, a smile pulling lightly at her lips. “Good,” Keenan told her, absentmindedly stirring her latte. “Yeah, really good. Busy. I just moved in with my boyfriend a couple of months ago, and that's going well so far. My job's good. Most of the time, at least.”  
  
“Have you been able to get out on the field at all?” Octavia asked, quirking a smile at her old friend when she just let out a little scoff.  
  
“Nah,” she said with a shake of her head. “I wish, but I think my soccer days pretty much ended when we graduated. You?”  
  
“No. I think I've traded in my soccer cleats for skates.” When Keenan gave her a look, she informed her, “My two oldest decided they wanted to give skating a try. Emma's trying figure skating and Jonas wants to play hockey, so I volunteered to help coach the local Mite's team. When I was little I used to skate all the time and even played the game, but decided to follow soccer in high school. It's what I was better at. It's felt good to get back out on the ice, though.”  
  
“Very nice,” Keenan said with a nod of approval. “I think I've seen a few pictures on Facebook of your kids skating recently, come to think of it.” Octavia grinned, thinking of the many times Raven had picked on her for blowing up her newsfeed with pictures of her kids, and just nodded. “Well that's awesome that you can get out there and pass on something you love to your kids. I hope they realize how lucky they are to have that.”  
  
Keenan trailed off, her eyes falling down to the latte still steaming in front of her, her smile falling away as her mind clearly trailed off elsewhere, and Octavia just studied her for another second. She could practically see the wheels turning in her old friend's head, and figured it was about time they quit the small talk and get down to why they were really here.  
  
“Okay Keenan, come on, what's up?” she asked, and almost instantly the other woman's head shot up, meeting her eyes again, about to deny that anything was going on, when Octavia's eyebrow quirked, the gesture cutting her off.  
  
While they'd been friends in college, both members of the soccer team and both Psych majors, they hadn't really kept in touch since then. They were close enough to still be friends on Facebook and comment on each other's pictures and statuses every now and then, but other than that they hadn't spoken since graduation. So when Octavia received a message from Keenan late last week telling her she would be in the area over the weekend and wanted to see if they could get together, Octavia had been a little suspicious. Those suspicions had only grown since the other woman sat down at the small coffee shop, spending long moments clearly getting side-tracked with whatever was on her mind, and the dark-haired woman was tired of beating around the bush.  
  
Keenan's mouth dropped open, as though to say something, and then immediately shut back up, her leg finally stopping its continuous movement as she shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with something. She took a second, as though to try to clear the thoughts tumbling around inside her head, before she began slowly stirring her latte once again. Octavia watched her, realizing she'd yet to take so much as a sip of the drink.  
  
“I... I have a favor to ask,” she finally managed to get out, and Octavia just lifted her brow higher, trying to encourage her to continue, but the other woman didn't look up to see it. “You know I work with child services. I work with kids, just like I always wanted, trying to take them out of bad homes and place them into good ones. I have a number of kids I'm trying to find homes for, but there are two in particular that... That really need a place, soon. They're why I wanted to talk to you today.”  
  
Octavia's eyes widened, her stomach dropping a little at what she thought Keenan was implying. “Keenan, you know I'd love to help you and help any kid that needs it, but my hands are kind of full right now. Lincoln and I have a hard enough time with the four we have, we can't take on anymore. I mean, the twins aren't even two yet; we already feel like we're drowning some times. There's no way we can take care of two more, besides the fact our house isn't big enough to even try it. I want to help but...”  
  
Before she had even finished, the other woman's head shook, her eyes lifting to meet Octavia's.  
  
“No, I know you can't take on more kids,” she agreed. “It would be dumb of me to ask that of you.” Octavia looked at her curiously, not sure where she was going if that wasn't the favor. Guilt flashed across Keenan's face only making Octavia feel even more confused, until she told her haltingly, “The agency I work for crosses over some with the agencies around here. Two years ago I heard about a little boy who had been bounced around from foster home to foster home, unable to find a family who wanted him until a pair looking to adopt their first kid decided to take him in. I see pictures of him on your Facebook sometimes. He looks like he couldn't be happier.” She paused for a second, biting her lip, and Octavia felt a weight settle in the bottom of her stomach as she realized why they were really there. Though she could still read the guilt, hear it in the other woman's tone, she saw a sense of determination spark up in her old friend's eyes as she added, “Your roommate from college, Clarke, she and her wife adopted him. They gave him a home, the kind of home that nobody else could, and now he's happy. Genuinely happy, and loved. I was wondering if they were thinking at all of taking on more kids. Or if they weren't, if maybe they might start thinking about it.”  
  
“I can't...” Octavia started, having to break off as her thoughts tumbled around inside her head. “I can't ask them to do that. They haven't said anything about wanting to adopt more kids, I can't just ask them to change their lives again like this. Calvin's only been with them for two years, not even; I can't ask them to do this.”  
  
“You don't have to,” Keenan insisted quickly, shaking her head. “No, my favor is just for you to ask Clarke if she'll talk with me. I considered just sending her a message myself, but you know, she and I barely ever really talked in college, so I thought if you could maybe introduce the idea to her, maybe I'd have better luck. And it doesn't have to be adoption; even if they'd just be willing to foster these kids, I'd be happy. I just need to talk with her, that's all.”  
  
For a second her eyes dropped back to her drink, hands both moving to the cup so her fingers could wrap nervously around it. “I know this isn't fair, what I'm asking,” she murmured. “And it's not entirely right, either.” Her eyes flickered up, unsurprised to find Octavia's jaw clenched, her brow furrowed, and she bit her lip again. “Maybe I shouldn't be going to them, but I don't know what else to do. I can't see these kids lost to the system, Octavia. I can't. I have to do everything I possibly can for them, and this is what I came up with. So I know what I'm doing sucks and I shouldn't be asking you to help me, but I am. Can you please see if Clarke would be up to meet with me? Please?”  
  
For a second, Octavia studied the woman sitting across from her, trying to decide what to say. On the one hand, Keenan had no right to ask this of her, and she had no right to agree. Going to Clarke with this would disrupt her life no matter what was decided. She and Lexa and Cal were all happy right now, perfectly happy and content with what they were. She hadn't heard either of the women mention wanting more kids any time soon, and Calvin had never said anything about wanting any siblings. What right did she have to present this idea to her best friend, when at the very least it would make her feel guilty for saying no, and at the most would change everything in her life by saying yes? She shouldn't do it.  
  
On the other hand, she could still see the guilt written across Keenan's face, just as strongly as the determination. While they hadn't been particularly close in years and even back in college had never been anything more than teammates and friendly towards each other, she still knew that things had to be bad if she were coming to her with this request. She could see it in the lines on her face, in the slightly dark circles beneath her eyes, that these kids and their case had been pulling at her for a while now. There was something about these two kids that she couldn't separate herself from, and clearly that had driven her to desperation. Octavia wasn't a social worker but she'd still seen a lot in the school she worked in, trying to counsel kids who'd already seen too much of the world, and the look in her friend's eyes made her wonder at just what it was these two had been through already to put the woman in this kind of a desperate state. Still, she wasn't quite convinced she should do this.  
  
“Why these kids?” she wanted to know, watching Keenan's reaction to her words. “You must have dozens of kids you're trying to place into good homes; why are you so focused on these two?”  
  
For a long moment, Keenan went quiet, turning and looking out the window next to her. Her grip on her drink tightened, her mouth pursing, and for a few seconds she just stared off, clearly lost in thought.  
  
“I swear we see it all,” she finally murmured, her voice barely over a whisper. “Back in school when I was studying, I thought about the things I would see if I stuck with what I wanted to do, but I thought, you know, it's all just part of the job and helping the kids get out of these bad situations they're in, it'll make it worth it. And it is. It definitely is. But there are times... Times where it's hard. Most days I leave work and I tell myself I'm leaving it all behind, that I'm not gonna drag the things I see home with me. I'm sure you try to do that too. You spend your entire day at work helping these kids in any way you possibly can, and then in the evening you go home and you focus on your family and you try to, try to forget because you don't want to bring any of that in your house. Maybe you go home and you hug your husband a little tighter, hold your kids a little longer, because you're just glad they don't know about these things that you know about. You try to shield them from it all for as long as you possibly can, because they deserve to live in a world that's blessedly apart from the horrors you see.”  
  
“That's how it is for me, at least. When I go home, I try to leave everything back at the office. I get back to my apartment and take a shower, to try to wash away the pain that I witnessed that day, the words that I can still feel clinging to my skin. Usually I can, but with these two...” Keenan shook her head, closing her eyes and Octavia watched as her lips pressed even tighter together, pulling into a thin line. When her eyes opened again, Keenan looked away from the window, meeting the dark-haired woman's gaze, and she gave a little shrug. “I don't know why they're sticking with me like this. I really don't. Theirs isn't even the worst case I've had to work with, not by a long shot. But for some reason I can't get them out of my head. I try, try to give them my everything during the day and then to let it go when I go home, to just relax and let myself forget briefly, but I can't. There's no explanation, no easy answer to your question, except to say I don't know why these two kids matter so much to me, but they do. And I'm going to do everything I possibly can for them.”  
  
Silence rang out between them when she finished, each seeming to study the other. Octavia felt Keenan's words settle into a hard lump in her chest, completely understanding each and every one of them. She did understand, had felt the same way in the past with certain kids who she'd tried to help get out of difficult situations once she'd learned about them through her own job, so she knew how hard it was at times to try to force yourself to step away. Thinking about the favor Keenan had asked and why they were really there, Octavia tried not to groan as she let out a long sigh.  
  
“Okay,” she finally agreed, “I'll talk to Clarke and see if she'll meet with you. I don't promise anything, though. If she doesn't want to, I'm not gonna push her to.” She watched as Keenan's eyes widened, her expression almost immediately lighting up and the tension seeming to leave her shoulders as her lips pulled up into a big smile.  
  
“You will? Octavia, thank you!” she exclaimed, surprise and relief clearly mixing in both her tone and expression. Quickly she reached beside her and began digging around in the bag at her side. Pulling out a little card she reached across the table, slipping it into the dark-haired woman's fingers. “That's my card; if she's up for it, please tell Clarke to call me, any time, just whenever. I'll be in town all weekend, but I totally understand if she can't talk right away.” Pulling her hand back, her fingers returned to their place around her cup, her leg once again bouncing beneath the table, this time moving even faster. “Really Octavia, thank you so much!” The other woman could practically feel the excitement rolling off of her, and couldn't help giving her a look as she quickly pocketed the business card.  
  
“Don't get excited,” she warned, “I'm not promising anything.”  
  
“You don't have to,” Keenan assured her, still smiling. “This is still a step further than I was before. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.” Flashing her smile across the table, she finally lifted her cup, bringing her drink to her lips and taking a long sip of the so far untouched latte. Gently placing the cup back against the table, she looked back up at Octavia as she leaned forward. “So tell me, what's it like coaching a kids' hockey team?”

***

Her hands fidgeting at her sides, Octavia made her way through the long hospital hallways. They weren't crowded, not overly so, but still she kept close to the wall, every now and then feeling the urge to bang her head against it. She shouldn't have agreed to this, shouldn't have allowed herself to be talked into it, but she'd told Keenan she would, so almost as soon as they'd parted ways she'd decided she needed to go talk to Clarke. If she waited she would probably chicken out, and one way or another Keenan needed an answer sooner rather than later. She had no idea what Clarke's schedule was like today, no idea if she'd even be able to talk to her right away, but she needed to try to get this over with as soon as possible.  
  
“Octavia?” she heard behind her, and turned around to see Abby walking towards her, a confused smile on her lips. Her white lab coat hung from her shoulders, a file in her hand that she quickly closed and tucked securely under her arm as she reached the younger woman. “What are you doing here? Is everyone alright?”  
  
“Hi Abby,” Octavia replied, flashing her a smile. “Yeah, of course everyone's alright. I was just hoping to find Clarke and talk to her about something, if she has a minute.” She could feel the doctor studying her, clearly aware that something was going on, and she just gave her another smile. A second later Abby turned towards another hallway, gesturing down it saying, “This way. If you need to know where Clarke is and if she'll have a free minute soon then you'll want to talk to Charlotte. She's wonderful, and always knows Clarke's schedule even better than she does. I'll take you to her.”  
  
“Thanks Abby,” the shorter woman told her, following the doctor as she began to lead the way down the hall. Many of the people they passed as they moved nodded to Abby or called out to her, the doctor always responding, but Octavia could feel her studying her out of the corner of her eyes.  
  
“Do you want to talk about it, whatever it is?” she suddenly asked, returning another doctor's nod as they passed him. Octavia's eyes flickered over to her, trying to keep her expression blank, and the older woman simply raised an eyebrow at her. “Come on Octavia, I've known you since you were ten; I know you almost as well as I know my own daughter. You can't hide anything from me.” Octavia grinned, knowing she was caught. She would never be able to pinpoint at what point in her life the Griffins had become like her second family, Abby nearly as much of a mother to her as her own, but she knew Abby was right; she couldn't keep anything from her.  
  
Even so, this wasn't something she could go to the doctor about, not until after she'd talked to her daughter at least.  
  
“There is something, but I really need to talk to Clarke about it,” she answered honestly, meeting the other woman's look. “I'm sure she'll talk to you about it after, but Clarke has to know first.”  
  
“Okay,” Abby replied with a simple nod, her arm moving up and resting across Octavia's shoulders in a comforting hug. “Whatever you say. Just so long as you know you can always come to me with anything bothering you.”  
  
“I know Abby,” she assured the doctor, leaning lightly into the hug. “Thanks.”  
  
“Octavia?”  
  
At the call of her name, both women stopped, looking to the side and finding Clarke turning a corner only a few feet away from them. Her gaze flickered back and forth between the two of them, settling on her best friend as she moved over to them. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”  
  
The nerves once again starting to buzz beneath her skin, Octavia nodded, giving her friend a smile. “Yeah,” she assured her, as Clarke moved over to them, “Everything's fine. Something just kinda came up that I wanted to talk to you about, that's all. Whenever you have a second; I don't want to interrupt your work.”  
  
Still looking skeptical and clearly guessing that something was up, Clarke glanced up at the clock on the wall behind them before telling her, “I actually have a few minutes now before I have to go check on my next patient. Does that work?” Fighting against the thrumming of her pulse, the younger woman nodded. “Yeah, sure, that'd be great,” she answered, moving over towards the blonde. She flashed a final smile at Abby over her shoulder, calling, “Thanks Abby. See ya later.”  
  
“Of course, Octavia,” the doctor told her, returning her smile. “We should have another family dinner sometime soon. Jake and I would love to see those kids of yours again, as well as you and Lincoln.”  
  
“Definitely,” she agreed with a nod, waving before Abby turned around, probably heading back to wherever she'd been planning to go before running into the younger woman. Turning her focus back to the blonde, she found Clarke studying her, clearly trying to figure out what was going on. “Is there uh, somewhere we could go to talk? In private?”  
  
The doctor gave a quick nod down the hallway. “Yeah sure, this way,” she answered before leading the way, Octavia quickly following. As they walked, the brunette felt Clarke's eyes flicker to her, but she just kept looking straight ahead, silently trying to figure out how she was going to get out Keenan's request. Clarke led them into what appeared to be a small lounge area with a few couches and chairs set up. A couple of other doctors hung around the space, sitting and talking or just reading from some of the magazines on the little tables around the room, and one or two of them nodded to Clarke or flashed her a smile. She returned the looks but led the way to the far side of the room, sitting on a couch not yet occupied. Octavia sat at the other end, and the moment she did the blonde turned to her.  
  
“Okay O, what's going on? What's got you looking all worried?” she asked, giving the other girl a look that nearly made her friend squirm. Why had she never been able to hide anything from Clarke?  
  
“I'm not worried,” Octavia answered, and when one of the blonde's eyebrows quirked up she gave in. “Okay, so I'm... I don't know. Not worried, really, but I do feel bad I'm here. I didn't really want to do this, but Keenan made this sound important and it kind of is. I guess she guilted me into it...”  
  
“Woah wait, what?” Clarke cut in to break off the rambling, utterly confused. “Keenan? You mean the girl from your soccer team in college?”  
  
“Yeah her,” the younger woman answered. “She and I met today for coffee. Except I'm pretty sure the coffee was just her way of convincing me to do this.”  
  
“Do what?” Clarke wanted to know, still trying to figure out what was going on. She watched as Octavia let out a big sigh, her shoulders slumping as she did so, before looking up and meeting the blonde's eyes. “Okay, I just want to start by saying whatever you want to do, it's fine. Don't feel like you have to do this just cause Keenan wants you to. I know you and Lexa have a great thing going right now with Calvin, and you shouldn't do anything that you think could mess that up at all, so if you want to say no, you can say no and that's it, I'll tell Keenan to drop it and look somewhere else and you and Lexa can just-”  
  
“Octavia!” Clarke exclaimed, once again cutting her off. She leaned forward, bracing her elbows against her knees, trying to get the other woman to completely focus on her. “I have no idea what you're talking about. Explain, please. Like, with an actual explanation. What does Keenan want me to do?”  
  
Octavia glanced away briefly, her fingers fiddling with the ends of her hair nervously. Letting out another sigh, she looked back at her friend, seeing her giving her a pointed look, and she decided she just needed to get it out. One hand dropped down to fish through her pocket, her other falling to her lap, as she met Clarke's look. “Keenan works with child services, trying to get kids who are in bad situations into good homes. She wanted to meet with me today because she wants me to try to convince you to talk with her. I guess there's two kids in particular she's trying to find a home for, and she was hoping you and Lexa might be interested in taking them in.” When the blonde's eyes widened, clearly taken by surprise, she rushed to continue. “She didn't tell me anything really about them, just that they need a place to live. I don't know what they've been through, but it sounds like for some reason they got under Keenan's skin. But like I said, you shouldn't feel obligated to do it, if you and Lexa don't want to. I already told Keenan that you two are busy with your own things, and that there wasn't any guarantee at all that you'd be able to meet with her, let alone take in these two kids. So don't feel like you have to. If you do want to give her a call though, here's her card.” She pulled her hand out of her pocket, Keenan's card tucked between her fingers, and reached over to the blonde. Eyes still wide, obviously still trying to process everything she'd just heard, Clarke took it from her, her gaze falling on the card.  
  
“Oh,” she just managed to get out. “That... Yeah, that's a lot to take in.”  
  
“Seriously Clarke, you don't have to talk to her,” Octavia assured her, still looking worried. “I'm sorry to just drop this on you, but you don't have to do anything with it. If you want, we can forget I ever said any of this. That's totally fine.”  
  
“Yeah,” the blonde agreed, still carefully holding the business card between her fingers. Tearing her focus away from it, she looked back up, meeting Octavia's worried frown. She tried to flash her a smile, making it as real as she could at the moment while nerves suddenly began swarming around her stomach. “I mean, we don't have to forget about it, but we don't have to do anything about it at this moment either. I should probably talk to Lexa before I do anything anyway.”  
  
“Yeah, of course,” Octavia agreed quickly, nodding. “Definitely a good idea. Talk to Lexa, and then take it from there. You don't need to rush into a decision right away.”  
  
“Yeah,” Clarke repeated, trying to refrain from looking back at the card. It felt heavy in her fingers, far heavier than it should, the possibilities and choices it created weighing it down. They sat for a few seconds, letting the silence draw out between them, before she stood up, giving her friend another smile. “I should probably get back to work now,” she said, gesturing vaguely behind her, and instantly the younger woman sprang up.  
  
“Oh yeah, duh,” she said, grinning. “I'll head out then so you can go back to being all doctor-y.” She closed the space between them, giving the blonde a quick hug, asking as she did so, “You want me to pick Cal up for hockey practice tomorrow night? I don't mind swinging by.”  
  
“That would be great, actually,” Clarke replied, returning both the grin and the hug. “Who knows how late I'll be working, and that way Lexa doesn't have to worry about it. Thanks.”  
  
“Course,” Octavia told her, her grin growing as she pulled away from the hug. “It's one of the things that makes me the favorite aunt, and one of these days Raven's finally gonna realize that.” Clarke just rolled her eyes, shaking her head even as her lips pulled up helplessly into a small smile.  
  
“You two are never going to stop arguing over who's the favorite aunt and you know it. You're both too stubborn to ever let the other one win,” she informed her friend, and it was Octavia's turn to raise her eyebrows. “We're the stubborn ones, huh? So tell me, who's the favorite aunt to my kids?” Clarke let out a little laugh, scoffing, “Well duh, that's me. Raven never stood a chance with that one. Lexa might have, but I think I finally won the twins over at Christmas, and they were the only ones left. Now all four of them definitely like me the most.”  
  
Octavia grinned, one hand moving to her hip as she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and we're the stubborn ones.” Clarke returned the grin before turning and starting to make her way out of the room, the other woman right beside her. Reaching the hallway once again, Octavia let the joking tone drop from her voice, telling the blonde, “I'll see you soon, Clarke. And I'm sorry; I really didn't want to just drop all this on you. If I'd known what Keenan wanted when she asked me to get coffee, I might not have gone.”  
  
“It's fine O,” Clarke assured her, her tone softening slightly. “I know this wasn't your plan. And it's not bad, really just... a lot to suddenly have to think about.”  
  
“I know,” she agreed, “At first I thought she wanted me and Lincoln to take these kids in, and I think my brain just about exploded. I can't imagine suddenly having two more mouths to feed.” Clarke let out a little laugh. “With the four you already have? That would be a disaster.” Octavia nodded, in complete agreement, and then looked back over at her friend.  
  
“Let me know, whatever you decide to do,” she told her. “You know I'm here to help, however I can.” Clarke pulled her in for another quick hug. “Thanks O,” she murmured. “I don't know if you're Cal's favorite, but you're one of mine. Top ten, at the very least.” Octavia gasped in mock astonishment, pushing away from the blonde.  
  
“Excuse you, I better be in the top five, at the very least!” she exclaimed. When Clarke pretended to silently count off names on her fingers, frowning, she added, “Parents and children don't count.”  
  
“Oh yeah then, if they don't count then you're definitely in the top five,” the blonde assured her, nodding. “Damn right,” Octavia mumbled, tossing her head up, and then grinned again. “Alright, I'll let you get back to work. Tell Lexa I'll text her to let her know when I'll be by for Cal tomorrow. I'll see you later!”  
  
“Bye O,” Clarke replied, nodding to her friend as she began making her way back down the hallway and towards the hospital's exit. “I'll let her know.” Octavia flashed her a final smile before turning around the corner and disappearing from sight, leaving Clarke standing alone in the middle of the hallway. The business card was still pressed between her fingers, its sharp corners digging lightly into her skin, and for a second she just looked down at it, the wheels in her mind turning as her heart began to pound in her chest. The little bit Octavia had been able to tell her repeated itself like a mantra in her ears, the words tumbling over themselves as she tried to piece it all together. Curiosity burned inside her, a curiosity she fought to push away until she could really process it later, push away until she could talk to Lexa and figure it all out together. Finally she forced it all down enough that she could slip the card inside her pocket, burying the thoughts swirling inside her head until she could take the time to think them through.  
  
Looking up at the clock on the wall, she swore under her breath before taking off down the hallway nearly at a jog. She needed to be on the other side of the hospital in three minutes: she could make it. Maybe. 

***

Her cell phone was pressed to her ear before she could even really register the sound of ringing at its other end.  
  
“Clarke what are you doing?” she groaned quietly to herself, lightly hitting her forehead off the wall she had stopped to lean against. Once again the business card was pressed against her skin, held up now so she could easily see the number on it. She let her forehead remain against the wall, her eyes tightly shut, unsure if she was hoping to hear a voice at the other end of the line or just a voicemail.  
  
“Hello, this is Keenan Mykulak,” she heard a formal voice say, cutting off the ringing. “Keenan, yes, hi,” Clarke said, eyes opening as she stood a little straighter even though the other woman couldn't see her. “This is Clarke. Octavia's friend?”  
  
“Clarke!” she heard on the other end of the phone, the formality suddenly all but gone. “Hi! Thank you so much for calling! Octavia talked to you, I take it?”  
  
“She did,” the blonde replied, nodding. “Though she didn't really have many details.”  
  
“No, of course not,” she heard Keenan agree. “I was hoping to be able to give you some details myself. If you're at all interested? I'd love to meet up with you to talk, whenever you have some time. If it's okay I'd love to meet sooner rather than later, but I'd be happy to work around your schedule. Do you have any time today or tomorrow, by any chance?”  
  
“Oh, that soon?” Clarke asked, surprised, and Keenan assured her, “Only if it isn't any trouble.” Clarke could practically see the tight grip she knew the other woman must have on her phone just by the tone of her voice, so she thought quickly. “I'm going on break in about two hours,” she informed her. “You'd have to come to the hospital and we wouldn't have long to talk, but we'd have a little time.”  
  
“That sounds perfect,” Keenan agreed quickly. “I'll see you in two hours then. Thank you so much for calling and for agreeing to meet with me, I really appreciate it!”  
  
“Yeah of course, no problem,” the blonde replied, her mind still whirling. “See you shortly!” she heard, and then after her own good-bye the line went dead, Keenan hanging up and Clarke following after her. She moved slowly, her mind feeling like it was trying to plow through a field of molasses, and for a second she just stared at her cell phone.  
  
“What did I just do?” she asked out loud, nobody around to answer her, and even if there had been she doubted they would be able to give her one. She continued to stare dumbly at her phone for another long moment before she shook her head, trying to shake off what had just happened. She had two hours to get through before Keenan would show up, which meant she would try not to think about what she was getting herself into for another hour and forty-five minutes. She could do it. 

***

“So...” Clarke said, trailing off, unsure what else to say. She stared across the table, finding someone she vaguely remembered from college looking back at her, a large bag hanging over her shoulder and a cup of coffee sitting in front of her. The blonde motioned to her own cup, her grip tightening around it as she got out, “Sorry for the bad hospital coffee; it's all we really have here.”  
  
“It isn't a problem,” Keenan replied, giving her a smile before she picked up her cup and took a sip of the drink. Almost immediately that smile fell away, her nose scrunching up as she gave the cup a scathing look. “I take it back; this stuff is awful.”  
  
Clarke let out a little laugh, nodding before she took a sip from her own cup. “It is,” she agreed, returning it to the table, “But you get used to it, after a while.”  
  
“I'm actually a little sorry to hear that,” Keenan told her, and the blonde just shrugged, still grinning. The next second Keenan looked back up, meeting the blonde's eyes, and Clarke felt her smile slip away as her heart started to beat against her ribcage once again. “But we're not here to talk about bad coffee,” the other woman just said, before turning and reaching into her bag. She shuffled around in it for a moment before pulling a file out, and Clarke felt her pulse pick up even further. Setting the file on the table in front of her, Keenan looked up, asking her, “So what exactly did Octavia tell you?”  
  
Clarke shrugged, tearing her eyes away from the file. “Not much. It didn't sound like she really knew a whole lot about the situation. All she really said was that you have two kids that you're trying to place in a good home, and that you thought maybe me and my wife could be the right fit for them. She said that these two kids got under your skin, for some reason.”  
  
Keenan listened and nodded as the blonde spoke. “She's right,” she affirmed, “About all of that.”  
  
“So... can you tell me? About them? And why these two seem to stick out to you so much?” Clarke wanted to know, and again Keenan nodded. The woman's eyes dropped to the file in front of her, and she opened it, Clarke's gaze immediately following. Even from across the small table the blonde could see the two pictures attached to the first page of the documents, and a moment later Keenan slid the entire file over closer to her so she could get a better look.  
  
“Tris and Skylar Bartlett,” she just said, nodding to the pictures. “Sisters. Tris is five, Skylar is fourteen months. They've been in the foster care system for about three months now.”  
  
The moment the file sat in front of her, Clarke found it difficult to look away from the pictures. Each was simple, just a shot of the girls' faces, and yet she couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from them. The older girl, Tris, glared at the camera, her brow furrowed and little lips turned down in an angry scowl. The toddler's expression was exactly the opposite; though not looking quite at the camera, a big smile pulled at her lips, a few little white teeth flashing at the camera. That they were sisters was obvious, even if their expressions were so different. They had the same chin, the same nose, and similar hair, though Tris's was lighter, more of a strawberry blonde while the little tufts of curls coming from Skylar's head were true auburn locks. The shape of their eyes was similar, but the colors different; from what Clarke could tell, Tris's eyes were a soft blue, nearly gray, while Skylar's were a deep hazel. Without really thinking about it, she reached out, barely gliding her fingertips over the pictures as she tried to take in every detail.  
  
“They're beautiful little girls,” Clarke murmured, trying to keep a hold on the way her heart suddenly ached in her chest. _This isn't happening_ , she tried to remind herself. _Not just like this. This can't happen without talking to Lexa and Cal_. Finally tearing her focus from the pictures she looked back up, finding Keenan watching her, and she gave her a look. “But why are you so focused on getting them into a home so quickly? You said that they've only been in the system for three months; that's far less time than most kids. And I find it hard to believe it would be difficult to find homes for these two. Aren't they in the age range that many families are looking to adopt from?”  
  
Keenan nodded, clearly agreeing with everything the blonde said, but even so she frowned, her expression turning sad. “Yes,” she told her, “All that's true. They've only been in the system for a few months, and yes, a lot of people looking to adopt want younger children, but these two aren't going to be easy to place. They already haven't been.”  
  
“Why?” Clarke asked, and didn't miss the fact that Keenan's expression fell even further. The other woman let out a little sigh, eyes flickering to the pictures in front of the blonde, and then told her quietly, “To understand that, you need to know how Tris and Skylar were placed into the foster system.” When Clarke raised her eyebrows, telling her to continue, Keenan nodded, taking a deep breath.  
  
“My office got a call one morning, about three months ago,” she began, her voice quiet as she told her story. “The police had been called to a woman's apartment and we were told there were two kids there, living in unsafe conditions, so I went down to check it out, to see what was going on. We get a lot of calls like that. When I showed up, I could smell the garbage inside the apartment from out in the hall. The stench was so heavy, I felt like it completely blocked my other senses. The police were still there, looking for evidence and trying to figure out what exactly was going on. One of the officers led me into the living room where another one sat with two little girls. Tris had Skylar in her lap, glaring at everyone else and refusing to let any of the officers so much as touch her sister. Skylar clearly had no clue what was going on, but was smiling at everyone, clapping her hands and babbling away. Both were dirty, though Tris more so than Skylar. After looking around more and getting as much information out of Tris as we could, we realized that Tris had been bathing her little sister to the best of her abilities, had been taking care of Skylar so much that she'd barely been taking care of herself.”  
  
Clarke could feel her anger beginning to stir in the pit of her stomach, almost a welcome heat that she had a feeling would soon be pooling through her limbs. Trying to keep it tampered down for the moment she swallowed thickly before asking, “Where were their parents?”  
  
“As we looked more into it, we quickly found out that they were being raised by a single mother,” Keenan informed her. “From Tris's birth certificate we got the name of her father, but he died when she was barely a year old. Skylar's birth certificate didn't have any father listed, just the mother's name. We tried asking Tris about him, but she never gave us anything about him, so my guess is he was a one night stand their mother never saw again.” She paused for a moment, her jaw clenching a little, and just the look made the anger burn hotter in Clarke's stomach, but she just listened as Keenan continued. “Figuring out the identity of their mother took almost no time, with all the mail scattered along the counters and balled up in the trash, and almost as quickly we found a stash of needles in one of the drawers beside her bed. The officers searched a little more and found plenty of other evidence that the woman was an addict. Heroin. We also found evidence that made it clear she hadn't been there in a while. Days, even. The little bit of food that was in the fridge had begun to rot, the trash can overflowed onto the floor, and dirty laundry laid everywhere. But when I walked into the living room, one of the first things I saw was a brand new bag of diapers pushed over to the side of the room, obviously just opened, and a few jars of baby food lined up neatly in front of it.”  
  
Keenan stared off in front of her, silent for a second, clearly remembering the moment she walked into that room. Clarke watched her, eyes scanning the other woman's face. “That's the only reason we ever knew,” she finally murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, so quiet that Clarke felt herself leaning forward. “Skylar ran out of diapers, so Tris strapped her sister into the stroller and took her to the little convenience store just down the street. The owner recognized them when Tris paid for the diapers, saw how dirty they both were and the fact that their mother wasn't with them, and called the police. If he hadn't...” She trailed off, her voice thick, and Clarke felt a lump burning in the back of her throat. Keenan's eyes were bright, her own anger and pain at what could have happened to these two little girls flashing across her face before she once again met the blonde's eyes. “Tris has refused to tell anyone how long they were alone for, but my guess is at least almost a week.” She shook her head, her hands clenching into fists on the table in front of her. “For a week they were left alone, holed up in that little apartment with almost no food, no one else there to take care of them. For a week a five year old was forced to take care of her baby sister, all on her own!”  
  
Barely controlled fury whipped through Clarke's insides, branding itself into her bones. She didn't realize how hard she was clenching her jaw until it suddenly started aching, and she had to force herself to relax. “And the mother?” she just asked, her voice clipped, watching as Keenan shrugged.  
  
“My guess is she went out to get a fix, and just never came back,” she answered. “It could be that she OD-ed, or she could have just decided that being a mother was too much and chose to leave them. We put out a missing person's report when we took the kids into the system, but no one's reported anything and she hasn't shown up anywhere that we've looked. It isn't likely she'll ever come back, and if she does I can promise you she will never be getting her hands on those two kids ever again. If she ever does comes back I'll have her arrested so fast for endangering the welfare of a child and everything else I can possibly get her for that it'll make her head spin.”  
  
“Good,” Clarke nearly spat, her anger continuing to burn through her and easily heard in her tone. Trying to contain it, she just shook her head before looking back at the other woman. “So now I know why they're in the system, but this still doesn't explain why you think it'll be hard to place them, why you want them to come live with me and Lexa.”  
  
Keenan let out a long sigh, looking back down at the two pictures before informing her, “It's become entirely clear that even when their mother was in the picture, she didn't do much mothering.” Reading Clarke's confusion, she continued, “Skylar's developmentally behind for a child her age, which happens a lot of times when a parent hasn't spent time helping them to develop. She was barely walking or talking when she was first placed into the system, and now three months later she hasn't developed much further. I think it comes from being practically raised by a five year old, and neglected by her mother. Honestly considering what she's gone through I'm surprised she's as well-adjusted as she is.” Keenan ran a hand through her long hair, letting out another long breath. “If it was just that, I really wouldn't be too worried about her; a lot of people are looking to adopt toddlers, and I have no doubt someone would want to take her in before long. But she also has some attachment issues. A lot of the time she's fine, but there are other days where she _needs_ to be held, needs to have someone completely focused on her. If they don't she cries and screams, which I guess sounds normal for children her age, but the way it happens with her isn't. Sometimes it's so bad that she has trouble breathing. Honestly, I think she has panic attacks, though she's too young to really be able to call it that. Most parents don't want a toddler developmentally behind who also suffers from some kind of anxiety issue, not when they can keep looking and find another one without the anxiety problems who is right where they should be development-wise. She's already had one family back out of adoption because of it.”  
  
Clarke felt her heart squeeze in her chest, the lump in her throat only growing as her gaze fell down, looking at the happy picture of the grinning toddler. Her eyes shifting, she turned to the picture right next to it and asked, “And what about Tris?”  
  
Keenan's eyes closed, her frown pulling even further at the corners of her lips. “Tris,” she repeated, shaking her head, “Is angry. She doesn't understand how their lives changed so quickly. She keeps telling me and everyone around her that she and Skylar will be going home soon, as soon as their mother finds them. She's furious we took her away from her home, and even more furious that we split her and her sister up.”  
  
“Wait, you did what?” Clarke interrupted, eyes darting to the other woman, jaw dropping open just a little. Obvious guilt flashed across her face, her own eyes shifting so that the blonde couldn't meet them, before she replied quietly, “I didn't want to; I tried to keep them in the same foster home for as long as I could, but I ended up having to split them up. Which hasn't worked out well at all, as I'm sure you can imagine. They were both the only truly stable things in each other's lives, and neither know what to do without the other. Skylar cries nearly all the time, always trying to find her sister, and Tris is always trying to find her. She's ran away from her own foster home three different times in about a month, trying to find Skylar. Last time she did find her, and the foster mother nearly had a heart attack when this little girl just showed up on her porch and then barged into her house demanding to see her sister.” Keenan rubbed her forehead, shaking her head. “If Skylar has attachment issues, I think it's safe to say Tris has _de_ tachment issues, with everyone except her sister. I don't think there's anything she wouldn't do for Skylar.” She looked back at the file in front of the blonde, her forehead creasing sadly. “I just need to know that these two little girls are safe, and are in the best possible situation they can be.” Her eyes flickered up, meeting Clarke's, adding, “And I think that's with you and your wife. I really do.”  
  
Clarke had to look away, unable to meet the other woman's gaze any longer, but when she did her eyes just naturally dropped to the pictures in front of her. She saw two little girls, one grinning and one glaring, but both lost and unwanted. Everything she'd just been told about them swirled through her mind, clouding out every other thought, but for a second all she could really focus on were their faces and not what she now knew about them. All she saw were two little girls who deserved to be safe and happy and loved, and her heart suddenly yearned to be the one to give that to them.  
  
But she couldn't do that, not without discussing it with her family first.  
  
“I really want to help you, Keenan,” she told her, her voice soft. Looking back up, she met the other woman's hopeful expression and shook her head. “But I can't. Or at least, I can't right away, and I can't promise anything. I want to help Tris and Skylar, but I can't just make this decision on my own. If we're going to adopt them, Lexa and I have to talk about this first, seriously talk about it, and then we have to talk to Calvin. I can't just bring these two little girls into our lives without making sure my family is one hundred percent on board too. I'm sorry.”  
  
“Of course,” Keenan agreed quickly, nodding her head and giving a little wave of her hand. “I can't expect you to agree to anything at this moment; I just wanted to give you the idea, to let you know that these two girls exist and need a home. I want you to go talk it all out with your family, and if you just can't take them in I'll completely understand. I just had to give this a shot.” Clarke nodded, a little relieved even if a cascade of emotions continued to tumble through her, and then turned her focus back to the other woman as Keenan continued, “And it doesn't have to be adoption, if that doesn't work. Even if you guys could just foster Tris and Skylar, it would be something. I really just think they need to be together, with people who can give them the love and attention that they need. Having them apart like this isn't working, and I've woken up from too many dreams now of what might happen the next time Tris runs away from her foster home to try to find her sister.”  
  
Clarke couldn't help but shudder at the thought, immediately trying to push it away. “We did become foster parents before we adopted Cal,” she admitted, “But we've never fostered any kids before. We'd still need to talk about it, even before I could agree to that.”  
  
“Certainly,” Keenan told her, once again nodding. “I totally understand. Like I said, I just wanted you to know about them, in case it's at all possible that you would have any interest in taking them in, in any way.”  
  
“Thank you,” Clarke told her, glancing one last time at the pictures in front of her before she closed the file, pushing it back across the table at the other woman. Keenan simply shook her head, pushing it back towards the blonde, telling her, “You hold onto it. It would be good for you and Lexa to go through it, while you're trying to decide what you want to do, or what you can do.” She stood up then, her mission complete for the moment, and added, “And no, seriously, thank you Clarke. You didn't have to call me, and you definitely didn't have to sit there and listen to me dump all of this on you. You have no idea how much I appreciate even just the fact that you were willing to talk to me. So really, thank you.”  
  
Hesitantly Clarke accepted the folder, slowly picking it up and tucking it tightly under one arm as she followed the other woman, standing up and grabbing her empty coffee cup in her free hand. “You're welcome,” she just said, leading the way over to the side of the room where the trashcan was. Tossing the used cup in, she turned back to look at Keenan as the social worker tossed her own trash in. “I'll talk about this with my wife and son, and then I'll call you. I've got your card.”  
  
Keenan flashed her a grin, probably the happiest she'd looked all day, and gave her a nod. “That sounds perfect. I look forward to your call, no matter whatever you decide to do. Thanks again for meeting with me.”  
  
Clarke returned her grin, her own quite a bit smaller than the other woman's, and then just nodded to her. After a quick round of good-byes and another sincere thank you from Keenan, the social worker left, leaving Clarke alone with the file still tucked safely under her arm. Her fingers itched to open it, to really look through it and read all it had to say, but she pushed the desire away. Taking a deep breath, she cleared her mind, doing her best to let go of all the emotions swirling through her chest and thoughts tumbling around her head, knowing that she now had to get back to work. She would go tuck the file safely in her locker, out of sight and out of mind while she had to focus on patients and paperwork, and let herself worry about it more once she was finally able to leave.  
  
Taking another deep breath, the young doctor nodded to herself, knowing that was really the best thing she could do at the moment, and then turned, heading towards the doctors' locker room. She'd let herself stress over thinking about the two little girls who desperately needed a home and how to tell Lexa about them later; right now she had to focus on her work.

***

The house was dark by the time Clarke's car pulled into the driveway, blending so easily into the night. She turned her keys in the ignition, the quiet roar of the engine immediately dying, and quickly made her way from the driveway to the front door, letting herself in. The hall light was on just inside the doorway, just as it always was when Clarke had to work a late shift, and she used that little light to shrug off her jacket and hang it up while kicking off her shoes. As soon as she was done she turned the light off, using the flashlight on her phone to make her way up the stairs and through the hallway without stepping on anything or stubbing her toes. As always she peaked into Calvin's room before going by it, letting herself in and holding her phone so that the light wouldn't shine directly in his face. He slept peacefully, his chest rising and falling evenly as his face pushed against his pillow, and Clarke couldn't help the small smile that grew as soon as she saw him. A mass at his feet shifted, Pauna lifting her head up just enough to give her mother a look, clearly unimpressed that she had been out so late but glad she was finally home, and the blonde just shook her head. When they'd gotten Pauna three years ago she and Lexa had agreed that she would have her own bed downstairs and not be allowed to sleep in a person's bed, but as soon as Calvin moved in with them that rule seemed to have just disappeared. Every night for two years now the dog had ended up right here, in this same spot, and neither of the mothers had the heart to tell either boy or dog that that needed to change.  
  
Leaning forward, Clarke gently brushed her fingers through her son's hair before kissing him lightly on the forehead. “Goodnight Cal,” she whispered, too quietly to wake him. “I love you.” Straightening up a little, she moved down the bed and scratched Pauna briefly behind her good ear, telling her just as quietly, “And goodnight to you too, silly dog. I love you too.” The little nub of a tail wagged briefly, as though to return the sentiment, and then Pauna's head fell back to the blanket beneath her, her eyes falling shut. Shaking her head while a grin pulled at her lips, Clarke let herself back out of the room, pulling the door mostly shut behind her before she continued down the hall towards her own room. This door too stood slightly open, and as quietly as she could the blonde pushed it open further so she could slip inside.  
  
What she found when she was finally in her room only made the smile pulling at Clarke's lips grow. The overhead light was off but the bedside lamp beside Lexa's side of the bed was still on, illuminating the room in its soft glow. Lexa lay in their bed, sitting partially up, with a book fallen open on her chest. She wore a big shirt, one that the blonde immediately recognized as her own, with the blankets pulled up to her waist. Her head hung slightly to the side, eyes closed, clearly having fallen asleep while reading. Clarke knew that Lexa liked to stay up until she'd gotten home from work, but clearly she had lost the battle tonight. Laying beside her was a dark shadow, Panther curled up into a tight ball, nothing but the twitch of his tail telling her he'd noticed her enter the room.  
  
Moving as quietly as she could, Clarke headed over to the bed, carefully placing the file that had been in one hand on her side, before she reached out, trying to move Lexa's book without waking her up. She wasn't entirely surprised when it didn't work, and just gave a soft smile as green eyes slowly blinked open to meet her own.  
  
“Hey,” she whispered. “You know you didn't have to try to wait up for me.”  
  
“I know,” the brunette replied, her jaw cracking into a wide yawn as her body fought to wake up. “But I wanted to. I like knowing when you get home.”  
  
“Well you know I'm home now,” Clarke told her, dropping a quick kiss to her lips. “Now go back to sleep.”  
  
“Get into bed and I will,” Lexa said, giving her a small grin. Clarke rolled her eyes but nodded, moving over to the bureau on the other side of the room. Quickly she pulled out another large shirt and a pair of shorts, happily stripping out of the clothes she'd been wearing all day and changing into the pajamas. While she did she felt Lexa's eyes on her, and turned as her wife asked, “How was work?” She gave a little shrug, simply telling her, “Same as usual. Saw some patients, filed some paperwork. Didn't have any huge surgeries, so that was good. What about you? Catch a lot of bad guys?”  
  
“Tons,” Lexa told her, and Clarke just flashed her another grin before moving back towards the bed. Lexa's eyes followed her until she scanned past the file still lying on the bed, her focus almost immediately falling back on it. “What's that?”  
  
Internally Clarke swore at herself. She had not meant to leave the file out to be noticed, mainly because she had not meant to have this conversation so late at night.  
  
“Don't worry about it right now,” she tried to tell her wife. “It's something we can talk about tomorrow. You're tired and I'm tired; let's just go to bed.”  
  
“Whatever it is, we can talk about it now,” Lexa told her, grabbing the file from the end of the bed. When she moved she jostled Panther, the cat finally lifting his head up and glaring at them both before letting out what sounded like a huff. “You are fine, Panther,” she informed the cat whose tail simply flicked again before he returned to his curled up position. The next moment the brunette flipped the file open, immediately going still when she saw the pictures inside and the papers they were attached to. Her eyes darted up to Clarke, confusion written all over her face, and the blonde just let out a sigh before flopping down on her side of the bed, careful not to disturb the cat.  
  
“I had a visitor at the hospital today,” she began, trying to answer the many questions she could see flashing at her from green eyes. “Well, two actually. The first was Octavia, who was trying to do a favor for one of her old friends from college. I guess this woman approached her today, asking her to see if I would be willing to talk to her. The friend, not Octavia. O told me that the woman was a child social worker, and that she wanted to talk to me about a couple of kids, but she didn't know anything other than that. She gave me the friend's card and then left.” She felt her cheeks heat up a little, a fact she could tell Lexa noticed, before she admitted, “I know I should have talked to you first, but I was curious and ended up calling her. Though if I'd known she wanted to meet with me almost immediately after, I probably would have waited.”  
  
“What happened?” Lexa asked, glancing back down at the file on her lap and then back to her wife. “What did the friend want?”  
  
“Her name's Keenan,” Clarke informed her, and then couldn't help but let out a sigh. “And she wants to know if we'd be willing to take in these two girls.” Lexa's eyes widened further, looking back down at the file. “She wants us to adopt them?”  
  
“Or foster them,” the blonde told her, sinking back against the headboard of the bed. She rubbed at her temples, the stress of the day finally catching up with her, and she felt the lump she'd managed to push away for hours now grow again, burning her throat. “God Lexa, you should hear their story,” she murmured, her voice cracking. The tears she'd wanted to cry while Keenan had told it to her built at the corners of her eyes, and she had to close her eyes to keep them from falling. Fingers suddenly pushed their way through hers and then she felt a tight grip on her hand. Eyes opening, she looked over at her wife, finding Lexa already watching her. Green eyes scanned her face, trying to read everything there, before the brunette told her softly, “Tell me.”  
  
Clarke felt her jaw tense, Keenan's words suddenly all tumbling back into her head again, but she nodded. She returned the pressure of Lexa's grip, using her wife as an anchor, before she began slowly, “Their names are Tris and Skylar. Tris is five, and Skylar is fourteen months. They were put into the foster system three months ago when it was discovered that they'd been living on their own for a week.” The fury that had settled into her gut the first time she heard the story flared back up, becoming evident in her tone as she tried now to tell it. “Their mother was a heroin addict, and from what Keenan could tell, left them one day and just never came back. She doesn't know if she OD-ed somewhere, or just decided she'd had enough, but she just disappeared. I guess they put out a missing person's report on her, and if she is ever found will be going to jail for abandoning her kids like that. Like she should.” Her anger rose in her like bile, her free hand curling up into a fist and she couldn't keep the thoughts that had been hovering on the tip of her tongue all day quiet any longer. “How could she just do that?” she wanted to know, glaring at the wall on the opposite side of the room. “How could she just abandon her kids like that? These two little girls, how could she just leave them? And it sounds like even when she was there, she wasn't a good parent! Keenan said that Skylar is behind developmentally and has attachment issues, both because her mother just didn't care enough to be a mother! I guess Tris has basically been raising her sister, and I just can't even wrap my mind around that! How does a _five_ -year old raise a _toddler_? How can anyone do that to their children? They were out of food; Keenan said the only reason they even found out about the kids was because Skylar ran out of diapers, so Tris took her to the store down the street and bought new ones, and when the store owner saw them he called the police. How... How does this kind of thing even _happen_?”  
  
Lexa's grip on the blonde's hand tightened, her body shifting closer to the other woman to try to offer her some comfort. She didn't have an answer to any of Clarke's questions, but she understood where her fury was coming from. She wished she could tell her love that this kind of thing seldom happened, that it was rare to find kids in situations as bad as this one, but she knew it would be a lie. She couldn't count how many times in the past five years she'd had to arrest a man or woman for neglecting or hurting their child. She couldn't count the number of kids she'd seen shuffled from one house to another because of something happening with their parents, or the number of times a child's story had broken her heart. All she could do was hold Clarke's hand and try to help keep her from spiraling down that terrible path of question after question, always wondering how there could be so much bad in the world, and why it had to affect those so innocent.  
  
“I don't know,” she finally just said quietly, feeling Clarke shift against her and push further against her side. She dropped her head to the blonde's shoulder, pressing a light kiss against it, before adding, “I wish I had an answer for you, but I don't.” Clarke turned into her, momentarily burying her face in Lexa's hair, and the brunette began running soothing patterns along the back of her wife's hand. She gave Clarke a minute to calm down, to try to control the anger inside her, anger that Lexa felt burning in her chest as well but simply pushed down for the moment, before looking back at the file still on her lap. “So Keenan wants us to take Tris and Skylar in?” she asked, and felt Clarke nod against her head before she pulled back a little.  
  
“She said that it doesn't matter if we wanted to adopt them or if we could just foster them for a while,” she answered, glancing first to the open file and then up to Lexa,watching the brunette as she stared at the pictures in front of her. “She had to split them up recently and put them in different foster homes, and it isn't going well. Keenan says that they're both really attached to each other, and when they're apart neither knows what to do. She said that Skylar spends most of her time screaming and wanting her sister, and Tris has already run away from her own foster home three times looking for Skylar. Keenan's afraid of what might happen if she keeps doing it. I think she really just needs a safe place for both of them to be, where they can be together and also be with people who want to help them.”  
  
“Mm,” Lexa muttered in understanding, listening but also focusing on the two sets of eyes that seemed to stare up at her from the file in her lap. She wanted to help them, wanted to immediately agree to take them in, but another person needed to be factored into this before a decision could be made. “We have to talk to Cal about it,” she finally said, tearing her gaze from the pictures and instead turning to look at the blonde. She met blue eyes, felt them scan her own as she added firmly, “We can't bring these two into our house without first talking to him and getting his say.”  
  
“Of course,” Clarke immediately agreed, her eyebrows going up for a second, surprised Lexa might believe she thought anything else. “We don't make any decisions without his input, and if he isn't comfortable with it, then we don't do it, end of story.”  
  
“Agreed,” Lexa said with a quick nod, but then gave Clarke a look when she bit her lip, obviously unsure about something. “What is it, Clarke?”  
  
“Are you saying that it's something you would consider?” she wanted to know, her voice quiet, still unsure. “If Cal agrees to it, I mean? We haven't talked about taking on anymore kids since before we adopted him.”  
  
“No,” Lexa agreed with a shrug, “But we used to talk about having multiple kids. Just because we haven't talked about it for a while does not mean I wouldn't still be happy for it to happen.” She raised an eyebrow at the blonde before asking, “Why? Do you no longer want more children?”  
  
Clarke was quiet for a moment, staring down at the folder on the brunette's lap. She looked into eyes she hadn't ever seen before today but had somehow already memorized, and thought about everything she'd so quickly learned about Tris and Skylar Bartlett.  
  
“I don't think I've wanted anything this badly since Angie told us about Cal and we decided to adopt him,” she whispered, the words quiet in the large room but the feeling behind them all too noticeable. Looking up, she met green eyes that were watching her, green eyes that always seemed to be watching, and felt her grip on Lexa's hand tighten. “I know we have to talk to Calvin about all of this, have to really sit down and figure this out before any kind of decision is made, but I think I love them already, Lexa. I really think I do. I think I fell in love with them the moment Keenan opened this file, even before she told me their story. I don't really understand it, don't know how it could happen so fast, but I really think it did.”  
  
Lexa scanned Clarke's face for a moment, trying to read everything there. She could see it all, could see the confusion pooling in the blue that had so long ago become her favorite color, could see the fury she still felt from talking about their story in the red tint of her cheeks. Pain and sadness at the knowledge that sometimes the world was simply cruel and that terrible things happened to people too young to even truly understand what was going on pooled into the corners of her eyes, the un-shed tears held back even now. But stronger than any of it she saw the love her wife spoke of in the clench of her jaw, felt it in the tight grip of her fingers. Lexa had always known that Clarke's heart seemed to have been built with more love than any other she'd ever known, and now it seemed that it had made room for two more little lives in the blink of an eye.  
  
“Okay,” she finally just said, nodding once and watched as the blonde's head tilted slightly, surprised with the immediate agreement. “We will talk to Calvin, and see what we can do. He has to come first in the decision making, but if he is on board, then we will contact Keenan and see where we go from there.”  
  
“Really?” Clarke asked, her voice little more than a whisper, and Lexa simply nodded again. A great smile broke out across the blonde's face and the next second she was leaning forward, capturing Lexa's lips in a long, deep kiss. The brunette sunk into the kiss, her eyes closing and fingers curling lightly into blonde hair as her wife deepened it, pushing herself against the taller woman's body. After a long moment Clarke's lips pulled away, her forehead still remaining firmly connected with Lexa's, and the brunette opened her eyes to find blue already staring at her. “I love you, Lexa,” Clarke whispered, her breath tickling against Lexa's skin. “So incredibly much.” Lexa smiled her small smile, the one that she seemed to reserve only for her wife, and leaned forward, pressing another light kiss to lips still so wonderfully in reach.  
  
“I love you as well, Clarke,” she murmured, her fingers tightening their hold in blonde hair just for a second, holding the other woman close to her. She watched blue eyes close, felt Clarke sink against her even more, and felt her lips quirk up a little further. “But now I think it is time for us both to get some sleep. We will talk more about this tomorrow, and can talk to Calvin after his hockey practice. Okay?” Clarke nodded against her without pulling away or opening her eyes, all of her energy clearly having escaped the moment she let herself sink against her wife, and Lexa just let out a little chuckle. Carefully she shifted them both, grabbing the file from her lap and placing it on the table beside her while trying to lower them so they could lie together in their bed. She felt Panther move from his spot briefly, returning only when they'd stopped moving to lay in the slight dip where their bodies pressed against each other, shooting them both a small glare before curling back up. As Clarke's face buried into the crook of her shoulder, taking in and then letting out a long breath against her neck, Lexa reached up, finally managing to turn the lamp beside her off after a few failed attempts.  
  
“Octavia offered to pick Cal up and take him to practice,” Clarke mumbled as the light went out, the room suddenly bathed in darkness. From the tone of her voice, Lexa could tell she hadn't opened her eyes again, even as she continued, “So you don't have to worry about that tomorrow. Don't know when I'll be home exactly, but it should be before practice gets out. So talking after should work.”  
  
“Sounds good,” Lexa agreed, turning slightly so that she could snuggle into her wife just as much as her wife had snuggled into her. “Mm,” the blonde hummed against her, acknowledging she'd heard but unable to get her mind to focus enough to say more.  
  
For long minutes they laid together in the dark, sleep so blessedly close to taking Clarke into its warm embrace, until a quiet voice broke her out of it.  
  
“I could take some time off,” Lexa murmured quietly, sounding far more awake than Clarke felt, but her words seemed to wake the blonde back up almost immediately. Clarke felt her staring up at the ceiling, could practically feel her mind working now that she was actually focusing on it. “If we decide to take them in,” she heard the brunette add softly. “I have a couple of weeks of vacation time saved up; I could use it and take off a few weeks. That way Tris and Skylar can have some time to get used to it here. And school is almost out for the year, so they can go to daycare with Cal once I have to go back to work. It isn't bad timing, really.”  
  
Clarke felt her lips turn up before she shifted, pushing herself up slightly in the bed until her upper half hovered over her wife. They both ignored the cat as he jumped off the bed, clearly tired of putting up with them and going to see if Cal and Pauna had room for him, and just focused on the other.  
  
“I like that,” the blonde replied quietly, her smile evident in her tone even if it was too dark for Lexa to really be able to see it. “I can try to take a couple of days off too. It could work.”  
  
“It could work,” Lexa agreed with a nod, and then she felt the smile as Clarke lowered herself, her lips once again capturing the brunette's as their bodies pressed together.  
  
It could work; if Calvin was up for it, then they would make it work. 

***

Lexa stared at the screen in front of her, eyes not moving. The file her attention had kept falling back on all morning lay open on her desk beside her, the two small pictures lying above it while the papers were spread carefully out around them. She'd combed through each piece of paper already, soaking in everything they had to say, and now she'd moved on, pulling up the police report in her system and the missing person case that had been opened just over three months ago.  
  
_Sharlene Bartlett, Female, Age 29. Heroin Addict. Reported missing after her children, ages 5 and 11 months, showed up at a convenience store to purchase diapers. Believed the children were alone for roughly a week. Both children are now in the system. Possible mother died of a drug overdose, but no evidence found to suggest it. No leads to where she might be if alive._  
  
The report went on, covering every detail that had managed to be found of the case. Lexa scrolled through the notes from the officers who originally arrived on the scene as well as those called in later. She read the notes Keenan had added as the social worker called to take charge of the kids and studied every picture attached to the file. There weren't a ton, but there were more than just the pictures of Tris and Skylar that Keenan had given Clarke, and they made Lexa's gut burn in rage. The apartment had been a mess by the time the police had arrived, a fact the pictures easily showed. Dishes piled so high in the sink that it looked like they must have toppled over more than once before they'd been arranged so carefully. Garbage overflowing out of the trashcan and spilling out onto the floor, so thickly that Lexa could make out the labels on a number of the boxes and the mold growing on the food on the floor. Even from just the pictures she could see the flies along the walls and windows, clearly drawn in by the food and dishes. And there, towards the bottom of the file, she found pictures of the two little girls living in that mess. Tris's face was dirty, her clothes even more so with streaks of who knows what along her shirt and pants, her hair unruly and clearly unwashed. Skylar looked a little better, her face at least looking relatively clean, but her clothes too showed the fact they hadn't been washed in a while, spit up and uneaten food caked into her shirt. At the top of the file Lexa stared at the face of the woman who had left them like that, the face searing into her memory.  
  
“What do we got?” she heard behind her, a body sliding into place and leaning over her shoulder to look at her screen. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her partner's face scrunch up, the confusion evident in his tone as he asked, “When'd we get this missing person's case? And since when do we work them?”  
  
“It isn't our case,” she informed him without tearing her gaze away from her screen. “I am just looking into it.” Roan leaned closer to the screen, squinting at the file. “Doesn't look like it's from our precinct.”  
  
“It isn't,” she said. He turned to her, raising his eyebrow, before asking, “Well then how did you get it? And what's the interest?”  
  
“I asked nicely,” she told him, one corner of her mouth turning up as he just gave her a look, but then she turned back to the file on the computer in front of her and her grin fell away again. “And I've developed a personal interest in this particular case.”  
  
“And why is that?” he asked, moving so he could lean against her desk. His arms crossed, his eyebrow ticking up further, waiting for an answer. After being partners for years, it was clear he knew when she was upset about something, and could easily tell that there was something about this missing person's case that had gotten under her skin.  
  
Lexa hesitated for a moment, but then almost gave a shrug, deciding there wasn't any harm in filling him in. As her partner, he'd find out soon enough what was going on, if Calvin agreed and they did end up taking in the Bartlett girls.  
  
“Clarke met up with one of Octavia's old college friends yesterday,” she answered, pushing herself back in her chair so there was a little more space between her and her computer, in an attempt to break her focus on it. “The friend is a child social worker, and wanted to talk to her about two of the kids she's trying to find a home for. She wants to know if we'd be able to take them in, by way of either adoption or fostering.”  
  
Both of Roan's eyebrows shot up as he let out a little whistle. “Damn,” he said, “That's quite the request. That's not usually how it works.”  
  
“No,” Lexa agreed, “But I guess Keenan is desperate. It sounds like they need a place that will take both of them in, and also be able to give them the attention they need.”  
  
“Don't all kids?” he asked, a shadow passing momentarily across his face as he thought of all the kids he'd seen through his work whose family lives had been far less than ideal. Shaking it off a moment later, he glanced back down at the file spread out across his partner's desk and the continuation of the file on her screen, and nodded to it. “So what's their story?” He noticed her clench her jaw, her brow turning down in a slight scowl, and immediately knew it was a bad one.  
  
“Their mother was a heroin addict,” Lexa answered. “One day she just took off, and from what these files say, she hasn't been seen since. The kids were found a week later, the older one having taken care of her little sister by herself that whole time. It isn't known if the mother overdosed somewhere or if she just abandoned her children. According to the report, her description has been sent to all the local morgues, but none of the Jane Does they have are a match. Until one does or she is found, it's a missing person's case.”  
  
“And you want to look into it,” Roan stated, his arms still folded in front of him as he continued to stare his partner down. He knew that look on her face, knew that now that all of this had been brought to her attention she wasn't likely to just let it go. She nodded, confirming his thoughts.  
  
“I do,” she confirmed, eyes flickering back to her computer screen, back to the image of the woman who had started this all. She felt his eyes still on her as he asked, “And what makes you think you'll be able to find her, when other perfectly good cops haven't?”  
  
Lexa gave him a little shrug, looking back at him before admitting, “I don't know that I can. But I have to at least try.” He continued to watch her, clearly waiting for more, and she felt herself let out a small sigh. “I can't just sit by and not do anything, Roan,” she told him. “Whether we end up taking these kids in or not, I cannot just let this woman get away with abandoning her children like this.”  
  
“You don't know she's alive,” he pointed out, and she clenched her jaw. “No,” she agreed, “I don't know that, but I don't know that she is dead, either. If there is any chance she could reappear in these little girls' lives and hurt them anymore than she already has, then I need to stop it.”  
  
Roan glanced briefly down at the papers on the desk, knowing exactly what she was getting into. They already had their own work, far too many cases to even want to count, so whatever she ended up doing with this one would be on her own time. Just combing through the reports to see every angle that had been covered and then trying to pick through and find the ones that hadn't been would take countless hours, and he knew many of those leads would only take her down dead ends. If this woman was alive and hadn't been found yet, the likelihood of her being found at all was slim to none, but his partner was going to try and find her anyway.  
  
Glancing back up at the determined expression on his partner's face, Roan gave a shrug.  
  
“Alright,” he just said, “We'll see what we can find. With any luck, we'll find her and you'll be able to toss her ass in jail yourself.” Lexa rolled her eyes at him, the corners of her mouth quirking up nevertheless, but he ignored both expressions, instead ticking an eyebrow at her. “But what do you mean 'whether you end up taking them in or not?'” he asked. “Of course you're taking them in. You can't tell me either you or Clarke can say no to all this.”  
  
“It isn't just Clarke and I who need to have a say,” the brunette informed him, her focus shifting to the picture frame sitting by her computer. In it stood a picture of all three of them, Calvin between her and Clarke and the two of them swinging him by his arms. It had been taken one day last summer by Raven when their entire group had decided to go to the park for a picnic, and it had quickly become one of her favorites. “Before we make any definite decisions, we need to talk to Calvin. If he isn't ready or is uncomfortable with bringing other kids into the family or even just into the house, then we can't do it. We have to think of him first.”  
  
She looked up in time to see her partner's eyes glance to the picture as well, studying it for a second before giving another shrug. “You're right,” he told her, “Cal should definitely have a say. But I'm betting he says yes.”  
  
“And what makes you so sure of that?” she asked, and he just gave her a partial grin. “Call it a hunch,” he answered, making her roll her eyes again. “But I also just know your son.” Looking back down at the desk, his eyes shifted over the papers, before seeming to glide right to the two pictures above the file. “This them?” he wanted to know, and when she nodded he reached forward, carefully picking both pictures up to study. Suddenly he grinned, turning one picture around and showing it to Lexa. “This one's gonna have you wrapped around her finger in a heartbeat. That smile and those big eyes? You won't know what to do with yourself; I bet she has you eating out of the palm of her hand within a week.”  
  
Both of Lexa's eyebrows rose, giving him a look before nodding to the picture.  
  
“Her name is Skylar,” she answered matter-of-factly, pointedly ignoring his prediction. Honestly, she'd already begun thinking the same thing. He nodded in response, turning to the other picture, and had to suppress a laugh, the sound barely escaping his throat but enough for her to notice. “What, King?” she wanted to know, and he turned the picture towards her, his eyebrow quirking up even further as he informed her, “She's gonna give you a run for your money, and it is going to be hilarious.”  
  
“What makes you say that?” Lexa asked, reaching out and taking the picture from him. The moment it was in her fingers he pointed to the picture, lightly tapping right between Tris's eyes. “That, right there,” he answered. “She's got that same stubborn look you have. If you weren't happily married and a lesbian I'd almost accuse you of being her mother already. And trust me, you trying to raise you will be hilarious for the rest of us.”  
  
Restraining from rolling her eyes again, instead Lexa looked down at the picture in her hand. She could admit to seeing a certain level of stubbornness in the girl's expression, a trait that she had been accused of many times, but wouldn't say as much to him. “You are talking as though we've already taken them in,” she said instead. “I told you, Clarke and I still need to discuss it with Calvin. We will see what happens after that.”  
  
He must have heard something in her tone, because the next moment she saw him frowning, giving her a look.  
  
“If I didn't know you any better I might think you didn't care about this,” he accused her, leaning back a little further against her desk and studying her. “As it is though, I've been your partner long enough now that I do. Talk. What's wrong, because I know you're already far more invested in these girls than you sound.”  
  
For a moment, Lexa met his stare, returning it with a look of mild interest. He didn't look away though, didn't for a second break under her look, and finally she felt something inside shift slightly. Eyes glancing first to the picture he still held and then to the one in her own hand, she explained slowly, “It's just... This happened very quickly. When we first decided we were ready to adopt a child, it took over a year before we finally got Calvin. In that time Clarke and I both had time to really process what we were doing, what we were choosing to get ourselves into. We used to talk about having more than one kid, but that was before Calvin joined the family. We haven't talked about it since.” Quickly she looked back up, meeting his eyes as she added firmly, “I am not saying that I would do anything differently, or that Calvin isn't the best thing to ever happen to us, but we had time with him, and he had time with us, and it still took him months to feel comfortable enough to even just speak to us. We don't have that time with this, didn't have the chance to first talk to each other about whether it is the right time for us to be taking on another child let alone two, and now we're going to just spring the idea on him. That isn't the way I wanted to do this, when we someday decided we wanted to adopt more kids.”  
  
Roan thought about her words, understanding her hesitancy and where it was coming from, but then just shrugged a shoulder at her.  
  
“I understand that it's weird, the way this all happened and then was dumped into your laps, but does it really matter?” he asked. She looked at him questioningly, and he continued, “It's a bad idea to judge anything based on time. We see it every day. Clarke sees it every day, you saw it every day way back in the Marines; there's never enough of it. So who cares if there was a lot of time between when you guys decided you wanted to adopt and when you got Cal, and now there's almost none of it with these two? They need a family now, and you want them to be a part of yours, I can tell by the way you look at their pictures. So yeah, it's weird, but so is life. One minute everything is one way and the next it all changes and you either let it happen or die trying to fight it. And I know you're stubborn Woods, but even you aren't stubborn enough to fight time. So just accept it and start thinking about what kind of beds you are going to get for your new girls.”  
  
Lexa leaned forward in her chair, trying to hide the way her lips tugged up at the corners. She couldn't say she wasn't still worried, but he had a point, and the unsettling feeling that had been tumbling around her gut for hours now finally seemed to be calming down, if only slightly. He was right and she knew it, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of out and out telling him.  
  
“You know sometimes you sound an awful lot smarter than you look,” she informed him instead, flashing him a small grin as she looked up at him. “You might want to be careful, or people might start thinking you are more than just a pretty face.”  
  
He returned her grin, his arms uncrossing from in front of him and instead moving behind him, the back of his head cradling in his hands as he leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. “And I work so hard to maintain my pretty face, I wouldn't want anything to distract from it,” he replied, giving a single nod. Glancing back at her, he added, “How lucky I am to have a partner who is all too happy to point it out any time I do something that might. My pretty face thanks you.”  
  
“Your pretty face is welcome,” Lexa told him, faking sincerity. The next thing she knew he was standing up, turning around to take a look at all the papers on her desk. “Before I lose all my smarts though, where have you gotten with this missing person's case? What are the rocks that still need to be turned up and exposed?” She followed his line of sight to the many papers and felt herself let out a small sigh before nodding to his desk across from hers.  
  
“Sit down,” she told him. “I will give you some of the papers to go through and we will see what we can find.” He nodded once and then moved over to his own chair, sitting down regally before accepting the papers she handed him, and for over an hour the two went over them, trying to find any clue that might lead them to where Sharlene Bartlett could be hiding. 

***

“Cal? We want to talk to you about something.”  
  
Calvin looked up at his Mum, not missing the way she nervously fiddled with the sleeves of her sweater. Beside her his Ma sat, as still as usual, but even so he noticed the way the corners of her lips were turned down just slightly, her own uncertainty clear to him. It had taken a while, but after two years of living with them and really getting to know them he'd figured out how to read them just as easily as he knew they could read him. It's how he had known that morning that there was something they wanted to talk about, but apparently whatever it was hadn't been quick enough to get into before he had to go to school and they had to go to work. Now it seemed there was time to talk about it, whatever it was.  
  
“Okay,” he just said, sliding a little further back along the bar stool and leaning forward, bracing his elbows on the island counter. Subconsciously he twisted the stool slightly, looking back and forth from his Mum sitting next to him in the second bar stool and his Ma standing and watching from the other side of the island, waiting for one of them to say more. He watched as they shared a look, clearly silently debating over which of them would speak first, and then he turned to his Mum as she focused back on him.  
  
“Yesterday while I was at work a friend of Octavia's visited me,” she began slowly, still fiddling with one of her sleeves but watching him for his reactions. “I didn't know what she wanted, but it turns out she's a social worker.”  
  
“Like Angie,” he interrupted, remembering the woman who'd watched over him for so long and then brought him here. He still saw her once in a while, but not for months now. For a long time he hadn't known what to think about her, other than she was the one who usually meant it was time to go when she showed up wherever he was, but over the past couple of years he'd grown to like her a lot more.  
  
Mum nodded, giving him a little smile. “Yes, exactly like Angie,” she agreed. “And just like Angie, it's her job to try to find homes for kids who don't have one. That's why she wanted to talk to me.” His blonde mother turned in her stool, grabbing a file from the end of the island and pushing it over towards him. She opened it, and his eyes trailed down, falling on the pictures of two girls. “The woman's name is Keenan, and she's trying to find a home for these two little girls. She was thinking that maybe we would be able to take them in.”  
  
For just a second Calvin looked at the pictures, but then he turned back to his mother.  
  
“What did you say?” he wanted to know, and his mom smiled at him, the ends of her sleeves slipping through her fingers. “I told her the truth; that this is something that we need to talk about, as a family, before we make any decisions. I told her I couldn't give her an answer without talking to you and Mama first.”  
  
“What do you think, Calvin?” his Ma asked, leaning forward on the island. “I know we haven't ever talked about bringing any other kids into the house. Is that something you think you would be comfortable with? If not, you can say so. It won't hurt either of our feelings.”  
  
“I don't know,” he answered with a shrug. “I never thought about it before.” Glancing back down at the pictures, he looked longer at them this time, studying them. “What happened to them? How come they're in the system?”  
  
From the corner of his eyes he could see his mothers share a look, clearly trying to decide how much to tell him, but he didn't look up from the pictures. The younger girl looked happy enough, though that could just be because she was too young to really understand what was going on, but he knew the older girl's look; he'd seen it often enough from two years in the system himself, both from the other kids around him and whenever he looked in a mirror.  
  
“They don't have a father and their mother is missing,” his Ma finally answered, taking long enough to answer that he knew there had to be more to it than just that. Rather than try to press for more, he just nodding, asking, “How long have they been in it?”  
  
“About three months,” his Mum told him. “The reason Keenan wants them to come live with us is because she's had to split them up recently and send them to different foster homes. It hasn't gone well, so she's hoping we can foster them both.”  
  
His head whipped up at that, frowning and giving them both a look. “We would foster them?” he asked, clearly surprised, and they both nodded, his Ma answering, “If that's what you wanted, yes. If you are comfortable with them coming in as foster kids instead of us just adopting them, then that's what we would do. Like I said though, if you aren't comfortable with this, you can say so. We won't be mad or upset.”  
  
His brow still furrowed, he gave them a nod, turning back down to the pictures. They were sisters; he could have guessed that, since they looked a lot alike. He remembered some of the kids he'd known in his foster homes, ones who cried not just for their moms and dads, but also for the siblings they'd been separated from. When he was really little he had wished for a brother or a sister to play with, but once he'd gone into the system he'd been glad he never got one. It was hard to miss his dad, but he'd missed his mom, and seeing how hard the other kids had cried for their siblings had made him happy he at least didn't have that to be sad about too.  
  
“What are their names?” he wanted to know, still not looking up, but a hand quickly entered his vision, pointing first to the older girl.  
  
“This is Tris,” his Mum informed him, and for another second he studied the girl's angry scowl. When his mother's finger moved so did his gaze, following it over to the younger girl. “And this is Skylar. Tris is five, and Skylar is just fourteen months.”  
  
“Tris and Skylar,” he murmured, as though he were testing out the names, seeing how they sounded. He looked at the two pictures again, thinking about the little bit his moms had told him about them while simultaneously remembering what it was like being in the foster system. They might have only been in for a few months, but he remembered what his first few months had felt like, and every month that followed. Every new house, every new face. Every day had felt like no one had wanted him, until he'd believed that he wasn't worth wanting. It wasn't until he'd come here, until these two women who were now his Mum and Ma had taken him in and shown him how much they loved him that he'd realized he was worth wanting, that he was wanted.  
  
Suddenly he reached out, pushing the file a couple of inches away from him as he looked up, eyes darting between the two women.  
  
“I don't want us to foster them,” he told them, voice completely serious. He watched his mothers share a look, didn't miss the way both of their faces started to fall before they caught it, hiding the disappointment away before they nodded. Their expressions only strengthened his decision. “Okay,” Ma replied, giving him a small smile. “We won't foster him. That's perfectly fine, Cal.”  
  
“I want us to adopt them,” he cut in before either of them could say anything else, and watched as their faces lit up in surprise.  
  
“Calvin, are you sure?” his Mum asked, reaching out and gently placing her hand over one of his. “That's a big decision to make, and once it's made we can't unmake it.”  
  
Other people could; other people had, and each time they did it had just proved to him how worthless he was, but Calvin knew that they couldn't. They wouldn't.  
  
He nodded, absolutely sure.  
  
“We need to adopt them,” he told them both, gesturing with his free hand to the file sitting in the middle of all of them. “Look at them; they need a family. Both of them. And if we don't do it, maybe they won't find another.” He went quiet for a second, staring off at the file but clearly not quite seeing it. Finally he whispered, “I don't want them to be stuck in the system like I was. I don't want anybody stuck in there that long.” He looked up then, expression almost sad as he thought about his days shuffled from one place to another, but entirely determined. “We gotta adopt them. We gotta.”  
  
Before he really knew what was happening, his mum had slid out of her stool and moved over to him, pulling him into her arms.  
  
“You're the best kid ever, you know that?” she murmured to him as he wrapped his own arms around her and buried his nose against her neck. It had taken a long time to get to this point, but now there was nowhere he felt happier or safer than in either of his mothers' arms.  
  
“Definitely the best,” his Ma agreed, moving around the island so she could gently ruffle one hand in his hair. He felt a pair of lips pressed against the crown of his head, and after a second pulled back slightly, looking up so he could see both mothers. “We're really proud of you, Calvin. And we love you.”  
  
“So much,” Mum added. “And that isn't going to change once Tris and Skylar move in. We're still going to love you just as much. Even more than we do now, probably.” Calvin shot them both a grin, almost shy as he mumbled, “Love you too.” His face brightened, an idea suddenly coming to him, and he told them, “They can have my playroom for a bedroom. I don't need it that much.” His blonde mother smiled at him, nodding as she said, “That's a great idea. We'll figure out somewhere else to set up your art corner.”  
  
“Good,” he replied. Eyes flickering briefly over to the file still lying on the kitchen island, he asked them, “So when do they move in?” His mothers shared a look before his Ma told him, “I don't know. We will have to call Keenan to work out the details.”  
  
“Can we call her now?” He grinned up at them, watching as they shared another little look. “You did say Keenan seemed to be in a rush on finding the girls a home,” his Ma reminded Mum, giving her a small smile. He saw her eyes flicker to the clock above the stove and then back, telling her, “I am sure she wouldn't mind a phone call, even if it is a little late.”  
  
The blonde mother grinned, a little bubble of laughter escaping her lips, even as she nodded. “You know, I think you're probably right,” she replied, and then stuffed her hand in her pocket, pulling out her cell phone. Calvin and his other mother both watched as she went through it, finding the right number, his Ma moving to stand next to him and wrapping an arm loosely around his shoulders. Even from this end of the line they could all hear the phone ringing, until a muffled voice cut it off. Calvin couldn't tell what the other voice said, but when it finished his Mum looked at them both, still grinning, and just said, “Keenan? This is Clarke. What do we need to do to adopt Tris and Skylar?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, my apologies for the long wait, but I had a hard time with this chapter. I like how it turned out though.
> 
> For anyone reading this and also wondering about the sequel for "Unbroken," my hope is to get at least one more chapter of this out, and then I'll start getting that story out to you as well. I'm not sure exactly how it'll go once I'm writing and updating both, but I don't plan on leaving either story behind for the other. I'm hoping to be able to fall into a nice rhythm with them both, but I suppose we'll see. Until that time comes though, I hope you continue to enjoy "Continuum!" More on Tris and Sky and them finally entering the family next time! Thanks everyone!


	7. Chapter Seven - Tris and Skylar Cont'd

Tris Bartlett shot a scathing glare at the woman she'd been told a month ago was her new foster mother. The woman, Darcy, stood beside her, every now and then glancing down at the five-year old, and Tris couldn't help but think that this woman was the exact opposite of her real mother. Darcy's black hair looked nothing like her mom's pretty red hair, her dark eyes nothing like her mom's bright ones. This woman stood completely still, while her mom always seemed to be moving, either shifting from one foot to the other or playing with loose threads on her clothes. It unnerved the girl, how still Darcy was and only made her hate her more. She hadn't liked her from the moment she first laid eyes on her, and that hadn't changed in the weeks she'd been living with her and her two kids. The kids had been almost worse than Darcy, always trying to bug Tris and ask her why she was there and what happened to her own mom and dad, never leaving her alone no matter what she did. Apparently pushing Tina had been the last straw though, and now she stood outside the house with Darcy, waiting for Keenan to show up and once again take her somewhere new.  
  
A car finally pulled into the driveway, Tris recognizing the driver immediately and clenching her jaw, but a minute after Keenan got out of the car the girl's bad mood suddenly melted away. The social worker turned around from where she'd moved to the backseat, and there was the one person in the world who could make Tris smile.  
  
“Tis!” Skylar beamed the moment she saw her sister, immediately squirming in Keenan's grasp and nearly dropping to the ground before the woman caught her, and like a flash the older girl ran to her, leaving her stupid foster mom and single measly suitcase behind, forgotten. Her baby sister tried to run to her too, her little legs doing their best to keep her up and propelled forward, and the next moment Tris had her arms wrapped around her baby sister, Skylar all but attaching herself to the older girl.  
  
“Sky!” she exclaimed, falling back on the grass, cradling the toddler against her to protect her from any possible injuries. She held her sister tighter, trying to ignore the tears she could feel slipping down her cheeks, instead focusing entirely on the small sobs she could feel being pressed against her chest. “It's okay Sky, I'm here. I'm here. You're okay Skylar, I got you.” She bent down slightly, pressing her lips against fine red curls. “I'll never let them take you away again,” she promised softly, as much to herself as it was to her sister. Skylar didn't seem to be listening, instead just pushing herself closer to her sister.  
  
A shadow passed over them, and Tris's grip on her sister tightened, her expression once again pulling into a glare as she looked up at Keenan, the woman who had ruined their lives so long ago. Right now she was smiling, a little sadly maybe, down at them. Tris didn't care if she was sad: in fact, she wanted her to be sad, just as sad as Sky was. It was her fault her baby sister was crying and scared, and she deserved to feel the same way. When the woman reached out, as though to either help them up or rest a hand on Skylar's back, Tris pulled her away, clenching her jaw. If Keenan tried to touch her baby sister, she would hit her; if she tried to separate them again, she'd do even worse. Tris wasn't going to let anyone split them up again. Not ever.  
  
Clearly seeing that her touch would be unwelcome, Keenan pulled her hand back, but didn't step away. She knelt on one knee instead, keeping some distance between herself and the two girls, telling them softly as she did, “I'm not splitting you up again Tris, I promise. Remember when I was here yesterday I told you that I'm going to take you both to your new family? They're very excited to meet you.”  
  
“We already got a family,” Tris spat, her glare ever-present. “Our mom's gonna find us, and when she does you're gonna be in trouble. She's gonna find us and take us home.”  
  
“Hum?” Skylar asked, her face pulling away from Tris's shirt as she looked up. Eyes even brighter than their mom's stared up at Tris, wide and hopeful, and the older girl felt a familiar tug pull at her heart. “Yeah Sky,” she whispered, placing a little kiss against the toddler's forehead, “Home.”  
  
Keenan looked uneasy, even sadder than she had a moment ago.  
  
“Tris, honey, we talked about this,” she tried to remind the young girl, “We don't know where your mom is right now-”  
  
“She'll be back,” Tris cut in, her tone immediately changing the moment she so much as looked at the woman again. “She always comes back. Just wait. She's gonna find us.”  
  
The social worker looked like she had something to say and then thought better of it, finally giving the stubborn girl a simple nod. “Okay,” she just said, “But until then we have to put you with a family who's going to love you and keep you both safe, and that's where we're going now. Did you get all packed?” Tris nodded reluctantly as the woman stood up, glancing over to where Darcy still stood by the front door, Tris's suitcase beside her. Without another word Keenan moved over to it, fingers wrapping around the handle as she flashed a quick smile to the foster mother. Tris could hear her saying something but didn't move except to stand up, pulling Skylar up with her and giving her hand a squeeze when her sister's immediately slipped into her own.  
  
“Tris, are you going to say good-bye to Darcy?” she heard Keenan ask, her tone a fake kind of happy that grated on her nerves. Not even looking back as she began leading her little sister to the car, she called over her shoulder, “No.” She thought she heard the two adults begin talking again, but she ignored them, instead opening the car door back up and helping her sister get in. “Okay Sky, gotta get back in your seat now, kay?” she murmured, giving her sister a small smile. Skylar beamed back at her, her arms lifting up, clearly understanding what needed to happen. As carefully as always Tris picked her up and put her in the car seat, tickling her and making funny faces to make her laugh while she buckled her in. It didn't matter what else was happening, she just had to make sure Sky was happy. Her mom always told her that was her first job as the Big Sister, and she took her job very, very seriously. As soon as the toddler was all buckled in, Tris plopped herself into the seat beside her, grabbing her sister's hand once again.  
  
“Tris, get into your seat, please,” she heard Keenan say, the woman adding her suitcase to Skylar's in the back of the car, and once again Tris felt her smile wipe away with a glare at the social worker. Her mom hadn't made her sit in a stupid car seat ever since Sky was born, and Tris hated that Keenan always made her go back to one. For a few seconds she stayed where she was, trying to decide if it was worth the fight, but when the woman's eyebrow rose, her own expression not budging, she let out a loud huff and then moved over to the seat. She was afraid that letting go of Skylar's hand might make her cry again, but her baby sister seemed content just having her nearby, her smile not wavering as she watched her move.  
  
For a while as they drove Keenan tried to make conversation, asked questions she clearly thought Tris might want to answer, but the little girl simply remained silent in her seat, her arms crossed stubbornly in front of her and lips held tightly shut, so finally the social worker went quiet, letting the silence engulf them. Skylar let out a periodic babble every now and then, words that Tris understood but she knew the woman didn't, and at these moments she would feel her lips begin to curl up into a grin, until she'd catch Keenan's eyes in the rear-view mirror and that grin would quickly fall away. The ride was long enough that eventually Skylar fell asleep, her head hanging to the side and held up only by the cushioned plastic of her car seat, and even Tris began to feel her eyelids droop. She didn't want to fall asleep, didn't like sleeping when anyone she didn't trust was around and wanted to know where they were going, but as it was she could barely see out the car window. She'd spent too many nights sleeping fitfully if at all, and now the steady noises of the car, the feel of the wheels turning beneath them and the sun beating down on her as it shone through the window began to tug at her, lulling her into something that resembled a peaceful rest.  
  
And then the car stopped and immediately Tris woke up, almost as though she'd never been sleeping at all. The car stopped and Keenan turned off the ignition, stepping out of the vehicle a moment later, and Tris felt her throat go dry. She always hated this part, seeing the new people for the first time, having to go into a strange house where everyone just expected her to be happy and answer questions. She hated the looks, the weird tones she always got from the parents and the nagging questions she got from the kids. She hated people expecting her to pretend that any of this was okay, when all she really wanted was for her mom to come back and to go home, go to her real home.  
  
Holding in the anger and fear she could feel curling inside her gut, she unbuckled herself, throwing her door open a moment later and jumping out of the car. By the time she made it to the other side of the vehicle Keenan was already there, trying to get Skylar out of her car seat. She could hear the woman talking to the toddler, murmuring quietly to her, but she didn't care. She squeezed her way between the two of them, shooting a fresh glare up at the social worker until she backed away, quickly giving up and instead going to get their suitcases out of the car. The second Keenan was gone Tris turned her focus on her sister, a smile breaking out when she caught Skylar yawning before rubbing her little fist against her eye.  
  
“Tis?” she asked quietly, her voice still sleepy, and Tris's smile softened even more. “I'm right here, Sky,” she assured the little girl, getting her own smile back. With careful maneuvering Tris undid all the many buckles and clasps and then leaned forward, letting Skylar's arms wrap around her neck. Just as carefully she lifted the toddler out of the car, stepping back onto the pavement of the driveway. Rather than let go, Skylar's grip only tightened so Tris stopped, readjusting her grip so that she wouldn't drop her baby sister.  
  
“Man Sky, you're getting big,” she muttered, making sure she had the little girl before she tried to move again. When she looked up she found Keenan watching worriedly, clearly thinking she might drop her sister, and Tris just clenched her jaw, trying not to roll her eyes. She'd been taking care of Skylar her whole life; she'd never drop her sister.  
  
Clearly deciding not to say anything, Keenan grabbed both suitcases, shutting the trunk of the car with her elbow, before turning and nodding towards the house they'd stopped at. “Come on,” she said, “Why don't we go meet your new family?”  
  
For the first time Tris actually looked at the house and immediately her eyes widened. The house itself was big, bigger than her apartment, even bigger than Darcy's house, and in front of it was a large lawn, surrounded on all sides by a simple white fence. A big garage was attached to the house, definitely big enough for at least two cars, and Tris thought there might even be more space behind the house. The door to the fence already hung open, as though inviting them in, and Tris stiffly followed Keenan through it, feeling Sky's head fall to her shoulder. She wanted to run away, to turn around and leave Keenan, leave this house and the people she knew were waiting inside, and just keep walking until she finally made it back home again where she knew her mother would be waiting for her. She wanted to, but Skylar's weight pulled against her, her arms already needing to tighten around her sister so she wouldn't drop her, and she knew she would never be able to carry the toddler all the way home or ask Sky to walk that far. The only thing she cared more about in the world than going home and finding her mother was her sister, so she kept moving forward, holding Skylar close as she followed the social worker.  
  
Keenan made her way up the few steps to the front door, Tris trailing slowly behind her, and knocked three sharp knocks as soon as she reached it, shifting the suitcases in her grasp. Tris watched as barely a second later the door swung open, and still glaring she looked up at the woman standing there.  
  
“Keenan, hi,” the woman said, flashing the social worker a quick smile. “Welcome to our home.” Blue eyes seemed to pierce her own, as the woman's gaze quickly fell down on Tris, her smile softening noticeably. “Tris,” she murmured, her tone gentle. The corners of her lips quirked slightly, taking in the little form still held protectively to the girl's chest. “And Skylar. Please come in.”  
  
Stiffly Tris followed Keenan inside as the woman stepped back, clearing the way for them. Even as the inside of the house came into view, she continued to study the woman. Blonde hair tumbled down her back, much of it spilling over her shoulders. A beauty mark looked as though someone had just drawn the neatest of dots just above her lips, still curled up in that soft smile. A simple pair of jeans hugged her legs while a long-sleeve gray shirt covered her top, and as Tris's eyes scanned over them she noticed little splashes of what she thought must be paint splattered here and there along both pieces of clothing. When the woman knelt down and held out her hand, offering it in greeting to the young girl, Tris's gaze dropped to it, noting another tiny streak of dried paint along the tip of her pointer finger.  
  
“Hi Tris,” she continued, still not looking away from the girl. “My name is Clarke. It's really nice to meet you.” Not letting go of her sister to accept the offered hand, Tris just gave her a look, scrunching up her nose.  
  
“That's a boy's name,” she replied, quickly scanning the blonde again. “You're not a boy.”  
  
“Tris, don't be rude,” Keenan warned, her tone low as she raised her eyebrows. The girl just clenched her teeth, refusing to acknowledge the social worker's warning, and glared at Clarke.  
  
The blonde, it seemed, wasn't fazed. Her smile just grew, her hand dropping when it was clear it wouldn't be taken, but moving to her thigh to brace herself, not yet standing back up. “People think I'm a boy all the time, when they hear my name before meeting me,” she informed the young girl. Tris watched as her shoulders shrugged slightly, before she explained, “My dad has always loved science fiction and astronomy, so when I was born he and my mom decided to name me after one of his favorite authors, a guy named Arthur C. Clarke. I guess they decided that Arthur was too much of a boy's name, so they went with Clarke.” She shrugged again, still shooting Tris a smile. “It's a little silly maybe, but I've always thought it suited me.”  
  
“I love it, personally,” Tris heard someone say, and she quickly tore her eyes away from Clarke, finding another woman and a boy a little older than her walking towards them from another room, a big dog pressed up against the boy's other side. This woman's long curly brown hair was pulled back behind her shoulders, and as she got closer Tris thought she saw little braids woven into it. Green eyes looked first at Clarke, her smile smaller than the first woman's but no less present, and then flashed over to Tris. Something changed about the smile, still there but maybe even smaller, as Tris felt those eyes study her. Something about the look made Tris want to fidget but she stood her ground, jutting her chin out stubbornly and meeting it. The little boy beside the second woman had floppy brown hair that hung just over his ears, almost falling into his eyes but not quite. Those eyes, when Tris quickly looked at them, were brown and soft, and he seemed to be studying her right back. One of the woman's hands had fallen to the boy's shoulder as they walked towards the small group still huddled in the entryway, as though she were trying to comfort him silently.  
  
“I know you do,” Clarke shot over her shoulder, looking back at the approaching woman and boy. As she did so, Tris noticed her smile grow. The two women shared a look before the blonde turned back to Tris, nodding slightly at them as the two brunettes stopped just behind her. “Tris, this is Lexa, my wife, and Calvin, our son. They're excited to meet you too.”  
  
Tris's eyes shot open for a second, before her forehead scrunched up, clearly confused.  
  
“You can't have a wife,” she argued, shifting Skylar's weight against her as her arms continued to grow sore. “You're a girl. You're supposed to have a husband.”  
  
“Tris,” she heard Keenan call sharply, a clear warning in her tone, but Clarke's smile only grew, looking up at the social worker and giving a tiny shake of her head. Meeting the little girl's eyes again, she gave another small shrug before telling her, “Some girl's have husbands, others have wives. Just like some boys have wives, and others have husbands. And some don't have either.”  
  
“That's silly,” Tris said, shaking her head, and Clarke's turned slightly to the side. “Why?” she asked, and Tris opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it again, her forehead scrunching up even more as she tried to think of an answer. Finally she just rolled her eyes, telling Clarke, “It just is.”  
  
“Well sometimes we are silly people,” the second woman, Lexa, informed her, sending another small smile to Clarke. Stepping around the blonde still kneeling on the floor, she held out her hand to Keenan, nodding to her as she said, “Hello Keenan, it is nice to meet you. I'm Lexa.”  
  
The social worker quickly set one of the suitcases down, accepting the extended hand and giving it a quick shake. “It's wonderful to meet you too, Lexa. Thank you so much for doing this, I know I kind of just dropped this on you and Clarke.”  
  
“It's fine,” she assured the social worker, eyes falling down to the two girls again, and Tris watched as her smile softened almost as much as the blonde's had. “We are very happy to have Tris and Skylar as part of the family.”  
  
“Tis?” Skylar said at hearing her name, her head finally lifting from her sister's shoulder. She looked first at her sister and then tried to look around, taking in the new place and new people. She squirmed, unable to really see with her sister still holding her, and begrudgingly Tris set her down, immediately grabbing her little hand as she turned around to take in the strangers around her. Her eyes swept over Lexa and Keenan, head tilting back as she tried to look up at the tall giants, before swinging around and taking in the two people closer to eye level. The little boy Calvin still hung back, also clearly trying to take it all in, so her focus continued to sweep past him, landing on the blonde kneeling only a short distance away. Shyly the toddler looked at the woman, her little body leaning heavily against her big sister as the woman gave her a little smile.  
  
“Hi Skylar,” Clarke murmured quietly, giving the toddler a little wave. “Welcome to our home.”  
  
“Hum?” the toddler asked, eyes darting away from the woman to turn up at her sister, confused and clearly hopeful. Tris gripped her hand tighter but shook her head, telling her, “No Sky, this isn't home, you know that. We're gonna go home when Mom finds us.”  
  
“Tris, please, we've talked about this,” Keenan nearly pleaded, her free hand pressing against her forehead, as though she had a headache. Tris just grit her jaw harder, refusing to look at the social worker as she continued, “Your mother is sick and can't take care of you two right now, even if she does come back. I'm sorry, I know it's hard to accept but-”  
  
“She's gonna come back!” Tris nearly shouted, whipping around and sending a sharp glare up at the social worker. She stomped her foot, her free hand curling into a tight fist. “Stop saying she's not! You're wrong! My mom loves us and is gonna find us, and when she does you're gonna be sorry!”  
  
Skylar's lower lip jutted out, quivering as tears began to build back up in her eyes, scared by the sudden outburst. Immediately Tris noticed, her anger wiping away entirely as guilt began to claw in her belly. “Hey Sky,” she whispered, turning to the little girl and ignoring everyone else around her, “It's okay, I got you, 'member? You're okay, I won't let nothing hurt you. Promise.”  
  
As she finished Tris heard a whine, but it didn't come from her sister. She looked up as she heard another one, and saw the big dog next to Calvin looking at them. The big head shifted to the side, looking at the boy she was pressed against, and then stepped forward, going right past the blonde and moving towards the two girls. Tris's grip on Skylar tightened, pulling her sister away as the big animal got closer, glaring at it. It whined again, sitting and lowering its head, big brown eyes staring at the two girls.  
  
“It's okay,” the girl heard, and tore her eyes away from the dog to see the boy moving to stand next to it. The animal whined again when Calvin's fingers scratched against the back of the dog's neck around its collar, looking again up at the boy. Tris noticed the little stump of a tail twitch against the floor, wagging as the boy pet it. He smiled at the dog, giving it another scratch, and then looked back at Tris, the smile still there, trying to reassure her. “This is Pauna,” he informed her, the dog's tail wagging again at her name. “I know she looks big, but she's really a big softie. She just hates seeing people sad. Right girl?”  
  
As though on cue, the dog let out another whine, turning back to Tris and Skylar, and then she laid completely down on the floor, big eyes still staring up at Skylar, watching the sad little girl. Even though Tris still held her hand tightly, the toddler carefully stepped out from behind her big sister, eyeing the dog. Slowly she toddled over to the animal, Tris refusing to let go of her hand, ready to pull Skylar away the moment she was in danger. The animal just laid perfectly still, watching the toddler, until she stood directly in front of her. Curiously, Skylar reached out, the palm of her hand bouncing lightly on the top of the dog's head, a forceful pet.  
  
“Gently,” Clarke told her, moving up beside the dog, meeting the toddler's eyes. “You don't want to hurt her.” Slowly and gently she took Skylar's hand in her own, giving her a small smile as she guided the little hand back down to the dog's head, moving it in soft pets. The toddler accepted the guidance, watching her hand move along the soft fur beneath it, until the woman's hand released her own. She continued the soft motion on her own, her hand traveling down from the top of the animal's head to between her eyes and then down her nose. Pauna held still while the toddler pet her, until the little hand was near her nose. As soon as she could, her tongue darted out, swiping against the palm of the little hand.  
  
Skylar let out a shriek of delight, one that nearly stopped Tris's heart from beating. The next thing the older girl knew, Skylar had jerked her other hand from her sister's hold, and then all but fell against the dog, giggling ferociously as the animal continued to lick at her. Pauna quickly pushed herself back up so that she was sitting right in front of the toddler, and then the little girl threw her arms around the dog's neck, still laughing as the animal tried to turn with her and keep licking her, giving her her own welcome. Her short tail thumped furiously against the floor, clearly overjoyed by the attention and contact.  
  
“Don't worry,” Tris heard, and she forced herself to drag her focus away from her sister just for a millisecond. Calvin stepped closer to her, still looking at the dog and the toddler, a small grin on his face. “Pauna won't hurt her. She couldn't ever hurt anyone. She loves Skylar already.” The girl kept eyeing the dog, watching it now nuzzling against her sister's shoulder as the toddler continued to giggle and didn't say anything in reply. For now Sky seemed safe, but Tris still wasn't sure if she liked the big dog being so close to her baby sister.  
  
“How about a tour of the house?” Lexa asked suddenly, breaking up the almost awkward silence that settled momentarily over the party, only the toddler's laughter breaking through it up until then. She reached a hand down towards her wife, Clarke accepting it with a smile, and helped pull the blonde back up on her feet.  
  
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Keenan agreed, nodding to the two women. She looked down at the girls, finding Tris still watching Skylar. “What do you think, Tris?” Breaking her focus from the toddler, the little girl let out an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes. “I guess,” she answered with a shrug, and then stepped forward, taking one of her sister's hands. “Come on, Sky.” Rather than pull completely away from the dog, Skylar's other hand remained buried in Pauna's fur, a tight grip holding onto it, but the dog didn't seem to mind. The animal rose back up on all fours, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth in a happy grin as she turned with the two girls, Calvin falling into place on her other side and giving her a quick scratch behind her tattered ear.  
  
“Awesome,” Clarke said, her lips turning up into an even bigger smile, fingers still laced with Lexa's. Tris looked at their hands together for a second, still confused, but then just followed after them as they began to lead the way through the house, walking down the little hallway and bypassing the stairs for now.  
  
“All the bedrooms are upstairs,” the blonde continued, looking back over her shoulder and smiling encouragingly to the two girls. “We'll go up there and take a look around after we get through the downstairs. That's the small bathroom.” She nodded to a door almost completely closed to their right. “The full one with the shower is upstairs too. This,” she led the way into a new room, “Is the kitchen and dining room.”  
  
An island towards the center of the room broke it up into two sections. Everything needed for cooking, the refrigerator, oven, sink and counters and cupboards stood on one side of it, while a wooden table stood on the other, five chairs around it. A couple of rotating stools stood along the island's length, currently pushed beneath the lip of the island and out of the way. Tris could see a couple of dishes stacked in the sink and a few pots and pans arranged along the counters, but it didn't feel messy, only lived in. It was certainly a lot cleaner than Tris's own kitchen had ever been.  
  
After a brief stop they kept going, walking through the dining room to the door on the other side of the room. The doorway to this room was too narrow for all three children and dog to walk through side by side, so Cal stepped forward to go through first, Pauna moving with him and Skylar losing her grip on the dog's fur. There was a dip from one room to the other, a step where the hard-wood floor of the kitchen switched over to the soft carpet of the next room, and Tris made sure to hold her sister's hand tighter as Skylar's little legs tried to take the step down without falling. She almost did, but before she could go down another hand shot out, carefully taking the toddler's, and Tris looked up to find Lexa bent over, now holding her sister's hand and lifting her up slightly to get her from one floor to the other. Skylar let out a little giggle as she was lifted up, her feet no more than an inch or two off the ground and only for a few seconds, but once both feet were once again on solid ground she grinned a toothy grin up at the brunette and Tris watched as Lexa's lips pulled up a little further, her eyes soft as she looked at the laughing toddler.  
  
“This is the living room,” Clarke continued, and Tris didn't miss the smile she shot at her wife before looking back down and making eye contact with the little girl.  
  
This room was larger than the kitchen, which made it pretty big considering Tris had thought the kitchen was already huge. A long couch rested against the wall to their right, two big chairs spaced out across from it. A big TV was mounted on the far wall, a set of small cabinets beneath it Tris assumed had movies inside it. On either side of the TV stood a tall bookshelf, both filled with more books than Tris thought she'd ever seen before, and a closed door stood to the side of one of them. There were a few toys scattered here and there, but weirdest of all was the stuff in the corner of the room.  
  
“What's that?” Tris asked, pointing over to it. A sheet of plastic covered the floor, easels set up and a small table tucked against the wall, paints and crayons and markers and all kinds of things scattered along its surface.  
  
“That's Cal's art space,” Clarke replied, one hand going around her son's shoulders as she looked down at him, giving him a grin. “He and I both enjoy making art, so we set him up with his own little studio. Sometimes we sit together to paint, and other times he does it by himself.” The boy gave the blonde a little smile before looking down towards the floor, suddenly shy again.  
  
“Oh,” Tris just said, looking around the room. Pictures hung on every wall, some of the family and people she figured they must know, while others were paintings or drawings, some of people or places and others just bursts of different colors. She kept looking around, noticing the door by one of the bookshelves again and asked, “What's in there?”  
  
“That leads to the garage,” Lexa answered, nodding to the door. Tris made a little noise in the back of her throat, just a little confirmation she'd heard, and kept looking around, finding another door along a different wall. “What about there?” she wanted to know, pointing to it, and watched as Lexa moved over to it.  
  
“This is our office space,” she informed the girl, opening the door so that they could see inside. Two small desks sat in the room, each pushed up against the walls opposite from each other, while a couple of file cabinets stood beside each. Another bookshelf stood across from the door, this one also overflowing with books. “Sometimes Clarke and I both have work we need to bring home with us, so this is where we do it.”  
  
“What're your jobs?” Tris asked, taking a quick peak around the room before quickly getting bored.  
  
“I'm a doctor, and Lexa's a police officer,” Clarke answered, and Tris clenched her jaw. Ever since she'd been taken away from her home, she'd decided she didn't like the police. They were the ones who took her away from her mother. Them and Keenan.  
  
“Oh,” she just replied, her tone clipped. Out of the corner of her eyes she thought she saw the adults all exchange a look, but she didn't care enough to pay attention to them. Losing all interest in the space, she moved back over to her sister. While she'd been looking in the office, Skylar had waddled over to the couch, finding something far more interesting there. Now she sat in the middle of the room, rolling the red ball she'd found across the floor and laughing as Pauna loped after it, always bringing it back to the toddler for another roll. Keenan stood just behind her, smiling down at the younger girl, but Tris snuck in between them, glaring up at the social worker. When Pauna brought the ball back to the toddler this time, the older girl reached out before her sister could get it, making a face as slimy dog drool coated her fingers.  
  
“Ew Sky, that's gross, don't touch it,” she growled, shooting her glare at the dog when she looked up at her, tongue hanging from the side of her mouth and butt wagging. Clearly she wanted Tris to roll it, but instead she just rolled her eyes, dropping the ball behind her and away from her sister. Pauna gave her a look, her head tilting to the side in confusion, but leaned into it as Calvin moved over to her, quickly giving her a scratch behind the ear.  
  
“We'll play later, girl,” he told the dog, as though she could understand him, and almost as though she did her stump of a tail just seemed to wag harder. Again, Tris rolled her eyes, even as Skylar turned around, slowly pushing herself up off the floor.  
  
“No?” she asked, looking directly at her sister. Tris gave her a quick nod, carefully reaching out and grabbing her hands. “Yeah, no,” she agreed, nose scrunching as she felt the drool on Skylar's hands too. Without thinking about it, she grabbed her shirt and used it to wipe her sister's hands clean, gently scrubbing the slime away.  
  
“Why don't we go take a look around upstairs?” Clarke suggested, breaking the silence the grownups had fallen into. When Tris looked up the blonde was already smiling at them, her hand once again in Lexa's. Tris didn't focus on it enough to notice the tight grip they both held on the other.  
  
“That's a great idea,” Keenan agreed, looking pointedly at Tris, and after a second the girl begrudgingly nodded.  
  
Clarke and Lexa led the way out of the living room, back through the kitchen and hallway almost to where they'd come in. Just before getting to the entryway however they turned, and Tris found a long hardwood staircase leading to the upstairs. She bit her lip, suddenly nervous. She hated when there were stairs in their foster homes; she was always afraid Sky would fall down them. The only stairs in her real home had been the ones that led to their third story apartment, and her mom had always carried Sky up and down those ones or they'd used the elevator.  
  
Almost at the same time Keenan and Lexa reached down towards the toddler, and Tris scowled at them, batting their hands away maybe a little too forcibly.  
  
“I got her,” she insisted, shooting all three adults a fresh glare, but then as always that glare dissipated the moment she looked at her sister. “Okay Sky, come on. We can do this.” Slowly she led the way up the stairs, never leaving her sister's side as the toddler tried to haul herself up one stair and then another. When they were only about half way up Tris thought Skylar looked like she was getting tired, so she moved behind her and grabbed her sister under the armpits, hoisting her up the next step. She thought she heard one or more of the adults behind her take in a sharp breath and felt them all move closer, but she ignored them. They might not have had stairs in their own apartment, but the first foster home they'd been in together had them, so she'd gotten used to helping her sister climb in this manner.  
  
Finally they made it to the top of the stairs, Tris setting Skylar down when they were away from the long fall back to the bottom, the rest of the group scaling the top along behind them. As soon as the entire party stood on even ground, Lexa grabbed the child gate Tris hadn't seen resting against the wall until that moment, and carefully secured it in place at the top of the landing. The young girl wouldn't say so out loud, but she had to admit to herself at least that having the gate ready earned them a couple of points. That first family hadn't had one, and it had taken Skylar almost falling down them for them to acquire one. Tris had barely let her sister out of her sight after that, though that really wasn't all that different from before.  
  
Seeing the gate now securely in place, Tris finally looked around her. The hardwood of the staircase tapered off into another thick carpet, gray and soft and covering the entire floor. Immediately off to their left Tris found an open door, the sink and toilet and little bit of tub she could see clearly labeling the room as a bathroom. Three other doors stood out, two along the wall across from the stairs and the fourth down the hallway and across from the bathroom. Each of these doors stood partway open, and already Sky was toddling towards the closest one, clearly more curious than her sister. Tris followed her, the rest of the group following after her.  
  
With her little hand, Skylar pushed the first door so it could swing open all the way, and a cry of delight burst from her lips. When Tris stepped inside, she could easily see why.  
  
Two beds stood inside the room, each on opposite ends. To the left, a dark brown crib pressed against the wall, its railings shorter than the ones had been on Sky's crib at home, but still certainly high enough to keep her from falling out in the night. A soft looking blanket hang over the side of the crib, little bears dancing along its surface and smiling out at the world. The bed across from it was the same dark brown, a small headboard showing off the careful woodwork. This bed too already had blankets on it, the topmost one a soft purple with matching pillow cases already covering the pillows lying there. Beside the bigger bed stood a little table, a lamp on top of it with bears dancing around the lampshade almost too similarly to the bears dancing on the blanket on the crib to be a coincidence. A large bureau stood beside the table, and beside that was a changing table, already loaded with diapers and everything else needed for that thankless task. By the end of the crib sat a large toy box, a number of stuffed animals and toddler toys already out and waiting to be played with, while a second, smaller bureau stood against the other wall. At the end of what Tris knew to be her bed stood a small bookshelf, a few books already waiting to be read.  
  
With another squeal, Skylar took off, nearly tripping over her own feet as she darted straight for the blanket hanging off of the crib. She grabbed it, the soft fabric wrinkling between little fingers, and tugged it until it fell from the railing, landing on her head. She fell back on her butt, laughing, and hugged the blanket closer to her, peaking out when it shifted to show her face. She turned straight to Tris, beaming at her sister.  
  
“Tis!” she exclaimed, grip tightening even more on the blanket. “Bae!”  
  
“Yeah Sky, I see your blanket,” Tris told her, giving her a small smile as the toddler continued laughing, picking herself up and waddling over to the stuffed animals, the blanket still over her head and trailing behind her. Tearing her eyes away from her sister as she began to rummage through the toys, she took another look around the room, her chest hurting for some reason. A set of footsteps moved behind her, and she felt someone crouch down beside her.  
  
“What do you think?” she heard Clarke ask her, and she turned enough just to see blonde hair at the corner of her vision. “We wanted to give you two something you would like. Keenan told us purple was your favorite color. Lexa found the blanket on your bed, and Calvin picked out the bears for Skylar. Tomorrow we were thinking we'd all go shopping so that you and Skylar can both pick out some of your own things, but we wanted you to feel as comfortable as possible as soon as you got here.”  
  
Tris couldn't answer right away, couldn't really speak past the ache in her chest. For some reason she could feel tears begin to gather at the corners of her eyes, but she pushed them back, forcing them down. Instead of focusing on the blonde woman's words and all the feelings behind them, she just continued looking around the room, trying to get control of her emotions again. Eyes landing on the only thing hanging on the wall, she pointed to it. “What's that?” she asked, happy to hear no unnecessary emotion had slipped out with the two words.  
  
Some sort of writing made up most of the picture, but she had no idea what any of it said. In one of the corners a little house had been drawn, an even smaller heart next to it. Clarke's eyes followed her finger, falling on the picture, and Tris could see the corners of her lips turn up a bit farther.  
  
“It's a quote,” she answered simply. “A saying. Lexa found it, and we both really liked it, so I thought I would paint that for you two and hang it in your room. It says, 'Fill a house with love and it becomes a home.'”  
  
For a second, Tris's focus got stuck on “your room,” the thought of it almost too much to take in, but then the rest of the woman's words registered in her mind. Chin jutting out stubbornly, she turned to the blonde, raising her eyebrows as she once again reminded them, “This isn't our home. Our mom is gonna find us and take us back. We're gonna go back to being a family and that's gonna be our home.”  
  
Rather than try to argue, Clarke just continued to smile at her, giving her a little shrug.  
  
“There's all kinds of families, Tris,” she informed her, looking first to Skylar and then back at her wife and son, standing just a short ways away. Turning back to the girl she continued, “Contrary to a lot of people's belief, you can build a family as easily as you can build anything else. It just takes love and commitment. And a home is the same way. This place might not be like the home you grew up in so far, but you could make it another home, if you wanted. It's all up to you.”  
  
Tris frowned, unsure what to say to that. She wanted to deny it, to say that no matter what her mom and their apartment would always be their home, that she didn't need or want another one. She had to admit though, the idea sounded nice, finally having a place that felt safe, almost like her own home had. Sparing a glance over at Skylar, she almost smiled; her sister at least seemed to be happy with the new room and all of its accommodations. The bear blanket was still wrapped around her, now falling down over her back slightly, a stuffed giraffe in one hand and a stuffed cat in the other. Lexa had moved over to her, now sitting in front of her with a stuffed panda in her own hand, a small smile on her lips as she moved the bear around, Skylar laughing when she used it to tickle the toddler. Her sister looked happier than she had in a long time, and that was at least something. Maybe, Tris thought, they could make do here, at least until their mom came and found them. Skylar seemed happy at the moment, and her sister's happiness was really all that mattered to Tris. She still didn't trust Clarke or Lexa or even Calvin, didn't trust that this wouldn't turn into exactly what every other place she'd been sent to in the past few months had turned out to be, but if they had to keep waiting for their mom, at least now she and Sky could do it together, and in their own room. And she'd never admit this either, but the blanket on her bed was her favorite shade of purple, so that was kind of cool.  
  
Seeing that Tris wasn't going to respond, the wheels turning in her head practically visible on her face, Clarke's smile just grew before she stood back up, hooking her thumb over her shoulder and gesturing back to the hallway. “Come on,” she just said, pulling the girl's attention back to her. “Why don't we go take a quick peak into Cal's room and then mine and Lexa's, and then you and Skylar can get situated in here. Maybe we'll even be able to find where Panther's hiding.”  
  
Tris's brow pulled down, eyes darting first to Pauna and then back to Clarke. They couldn't actually have a panther, right? These people weren't _that_ crazy. Looking over at her, Lexa saw the confusion and sudden concern on the little girl's face, and shot her a small smile.  
  
“Panther is our cat,” she informed her, raising her eyebrows at the blonde. “My wife was not trying to tell you we have an actual panther. That might be going a little overboard, even for us.” Clarke just grinned at the brunette, sending her a cheeky smile, before turning to Pauna and giving a little whistle, the dog immediately perking up at it. “Pauna, go find Panther. Come on, go find him!” With the quietest little _buff_ and a wag of her tail, the big dog turned around, trotting out of the room.  
  
Tris gave the blonde another look, raising an eyebrow at her.  
  
“You send your _dog_ after your _cat_?” she accused, full well knowing that cats and dogs weren't supposed to get along, even though she'd never had either. Clarke just shot her another smile, flipping her hand at the little girl. “Don't worry,” she assured her, “Pauna and Panther are best friends. Honestly, Pauna's a big softie, and Panther usually has to watch out for her, rather than the other way around. They're a very strange pair.”  
  
“Like you two,” Tris blurted out, rolling her eyes before Keenan could get out the admonishing, “Tris!” Rather than be offended though, both women just smiled, Lexa raising easily to her feet and moving over to her wife. Slipping one arm around the blonde's waist, the other woman leaned forward, landing a sweet kiss against the first's cheek.  
  
“Yes,” Lexa agreed, pulling back but not taking her eyes off of her wife. “Just like the two of us.” Clarke returned the smile, her arm slinking behind Lexa's back before she pressed a similar kiss to the brunette's cheeks. Calvin rolled his eyes, eventually meeting Tris's, and he shook his head. “They do this all the time, you'll get used to it,” he promised, his tone a mixture of grossed out, bored and kind of happy that just confused Tris almost as much as the display before her. She didn't remember her dad and she'd never met Skylar's dad, which meant her mom had never really had anybody to kiss in their apartment, so this was a little weird for her.  
  
To try to move past this weirdness, she moved over to Skylar, grabbing her sister's hand and gently pulling her to her feet.  
  
“Come on Sky, let's go see Calvin's room,” she just said, pulling the grinning toddler behind her who continued to clutch the panda Lexa had tickled her with. Calvin left with them, leading them to the next door, and the adults once again followed, Lexa and Clarke once again grabbing each other's hand.  
  
Clarke had been right; they eventually found Pauna and Panther curled up next to each other on the married couple's bed, Pauna's head draped carefully over the cat's body. When they entered the room, Panther opened one eye, gave them all a look, and then closed it, his tail simply twitching a little before settling back against the dog's side. It really was a weird pairing, but Tris had a feeling it was far from the weirdest thing she'd end up seeing while staying at this house. 

***

Soft orange light glowed from the foot of Tris's bed, the light strong enough only to make out the barest outline of the many items in the room. Outside of that soft glow, pitch black encased everything, night having descended over the house and everything inside it, and the young girl's eyes strained as she stared up at a dark ceiling. She'd been tucked into her bed, the purple blanket tucked up under her chin, now slightly disheveled after tossing and turning for what felt like forever. On the other side of the room she could hear soft breathing, Skylar having fallen asleep nearly as soon as the lights had been turned off. She was wrapped snugly in her bear blanket; Tris knew, since she'd already gotten up twice to check on her.  
  
Keenan had left not long after they finished the tour of the house, and as much as Tris knew the family had tried to prevent it, an awkwardness settled in as the door closed behind her. It wasn't the strangest Tris had ever felt, being left in a stranger's home, but it was always weird. Clarke and Lexa had helped them to unpack their small suitcases, tried to help them get situated in their new room, and then they'd all gone back downstairs. For a while they all hung out in the living room, Clarke and Calvin painting while Lexa read some of the children's books they'd already bought to Skylar, the toddler almost immediately engrossed in them. Tris had pretended to listen too, but rather than pay attention to what the brown bear saw, instead she'd studied the family. She didn't understand why they were still acting so interested in the two of them; the social worker had left, so they were supposed to drop the act and stop caring so much. Instead they spent the rest of the evening with the three kids, Clarke only leaving to get dinner ready. Tris had found herself sitting at the table with the rest of them, Lexa passing out plates of lasagna and garlic bread while Clarke got Skylar situated in the highchair they had already gotten for her. Skylar ended up making a mess all over her shirt, she was so excited by her dinner, but the two women had only laughed, the blonde helping her when it seemed like more of the food ended up along the toddler's front rather than in her mouth. As soon as dinner ended, the blonde had whisked the youngest of the three children away, quickly changing her into new pajamas Tris had seen her pull out of one of the drawers in their room. Not long after that it had been bedtime, and even though Skylar hadn't had a difficult time falling asleep with a full belly and warm blanket, Tris just couldn't. None of this was like anything she had been expecting, and that made her nervous.  
  
A soft knock on her door interrupted the many thoughts swirling around the little girl's head, and she looked up in time to see the door swing open, even more of the hall light spilling inside the room than had managed to make it through the little crack Lexa had left as she pulled the door shut behind her. Tris sat up slightly, seeing a small outline appear in the light, before she heard a soft murmured, “Tris? Can I come in?”  
  
Hesitating for just a second, Tris finally nodded. “Yeah,” she called, just as softly, not wanting to wake her sister. Calvin stepped into the room, pushing the door mostly shut behind him, and then used the little glow of the nightlight to make his way over to the bed. Reaching it, he carefully sat at the foot of the bed, not wanting to sit on Tris's legs, and as he sat she pushed herself up further against the headboard, staring at his shadowed figure. She could tell he had something in his hands and began fiddling with it in his lap, but she couldn't tell what it was in the darkness.  
  
The two kids sat in silence for a second, listening to Skylar's breathing before Tris broke through the quiet.  
  
“How'd you know I'm up?” she wanted to know, still keeping her voice soft. “Aren't you sposed to be sleeping?” In the nightlight's glow, she could see him give a little shrug.  
  
“Just figured you'd be awake,” he answered simply, before turning over to the other side of the room. She couldn't see it, but Tris thought she heard him smile as he added, “But I'm glad Skylar's sleeping. I bet she's tired.”  
  
Tris just nodded, not having anything to say as she followed the turn of his head and looked towards her sister's crib as well. Her legs prickled, the urge to get up and go over to the toddler hitting her again, but this time she remained where she was, instead crossing her legs and letting one knee bounce up and down against the mattress. Sky wasn't the only one who was tired, but Tris's nervous energy kept her from sleeping like her sister.  
  
She could see Calvin turn back to her, could feel him studying her, but continued to look towards her sister's side of the room until he said softly, “You're safe here, Tris. I know you've probably heard that before at your other homes, but here it's true. Clarke and Lexa just wanna take care of you. And Skylar.”  
  
Tris raised an eyebrow, turning back to the boy. “You call your moms 'Clarke' and 'Lexa?' That's weird,” she scoffed, her voice having a little more bite to it than necessary. Most of the kids in the other places she'd been to had played nice for a little while and then turned mean, so she knew better than to fall for that again.  
  
Calvin was quiet for a minute, and Tris didn't think he was going to answer. And then:  
  
“They're not my real moms. I mean, they are, but they haven't always been. I'm adopted too.”  
  
He spoke the words quietly, even more quietly than anything he'd said before. Tris could hear the almost sad truth of them, could tell there was a lot more to the story than that, but she didn't ask. She could feel him watching her again as he added, “I was in the system for a long time. And then they adopted me. I didn't trust them either, but they weren't like everyone else. They took care of me and made me feel safe. Like I had a home again.”  
  
“I already have a home,” Tris growled, scowling. Why did everyone think they needed a new one? She and Sky had a home and a mom, and they didn't need new ones. Maybe Calvin had needed them, but they didn't.  
  
“And now you have another one,” he just informed her lightly, shrugging his shoulders again. “It's like Mumma said: you can have more than one home. Like it or not you're kinda stuck with us now.” She could hear the amusement in his tone, could easily picture his grin, and rolled her eyes. “Ma and Mumma are both weird, it's true, but they're also kinda great. And really stubborn too.” She could barely make out the flicker of his eyes as he glanced back over at the crib. “'Sides, aren't you happy you're with Skylar at least?”  
  
Even just the thought of her baby sister made something clench in her chest, and Tris felt a lump form in her throat. For a long time they'd been separated, and Tris had tried every day to figure out a way to find her again, and now they were in the same room, supposedly never to be separated again.  
  
“Yeah,” she finally whispered past the burning in her throat. “That's good, at least. I'll never let anyone take her from me again.”  
  
“They won't,” Cal promised, still quiet. He reached out, taking her hand briefly in his own. She looked at him, eyes wide when he gave her hand a little squeeze. “Ma and Mumma won't let anyone even try. You're safe now, Tris, you and Skylar. We're all gonna keep you safe. I promise.”  
  
She didn't believe him, not really, but nevertheless Tris felt the burning in her throat intensify. She could have argued, could have told him the truth, about how he couldn't promise that anymore than she could really promise Skylar that they'd never be separated again. They were just kids, all three of them, and didn't have any power, weren't allowed to have any say in what happened to them, but trying to talk meant taking the chance of her voice breaking, so she just remained silent, choosing instead to nod as though she trusted him and his words. He returned the nod, squeezing her hand one more time, before he stood up, letting go of her as he moved.  
  
“Goodnight, Tris,” he just told her, standing beside her bed. “I hope you have good dreams. I'll see ya tomorrow.”  
  
“Night,” she just replied, unsure how else to respond to the sentiment. She thought she saw the flash of a smile, and then he turned and began walking to the crib instead of the door like she expected. He stopped, looking through the bars at the sleeping toddler, and then she saw his outline reach up, carefully setting whatever he'd been carrying into the crib with the little girl.  
  
“Goodnight Skylar,” he whispered, so quietly Tris had to strain her ears to hear him. “Sweet dreams. Welcome to our family.” Tris saw his arm move, perhaps to stroke the toddler's arm or tuck a curl behind an ear, and then he headed back to the door, ducking back out into the hall light as silently as he could. As he pulled the door closed behind him again, Tris saw him flash her a small smile.  
  
The moment only a sliver of light could make its way through the crack of the door, Tris tossed her blankets off, hurrying over to her sister's crib. Looking between the bars, she could see a little lump of something not far from the toddler, a new addition since the last time she'd gotten up to check on the little girl, and grabbed it, yanking it carefully between the bars. Making as little sound as possible she moved over to the nightlight at the foot of her bed and held the lump out, finally able to get a good look at it in the orange glow.  
  
Brown floppy ears hung out from either side of its head. A large brown spot covered one eye, a similar brown spot covering the butt and little tail hanging off the end of it while the rest of the animal seemed to be light tan. A smile had been stitched along the dog's muzzle, as though to prove its happiness to the world. The ware along the dog's soft fur proved that the stuffed animal had not been bought new for the toddler, but instead had been around for a long time, clutched over and over in little hands that needed something to hold onto, something to anchor them while the world spun haphazardly around them.  
  
Tris studied the animal for a long moment, trying not to think about everything Calvin had just told her but unable not to. Her grip on the dog tightened, and then she found herself moving back over to her sister. Without even really thinking about it, she placed the stuffed animal back where Calvin had left it, even pushing it a little closer to the sleeping toddler, before returning to her own bed and pulling the blankets back up over her. She settled into the mattress, head falling to one pillow while she gripped the soft purple blanket around her, feeling it brush against her chin. Closing her eyes, she finally made herself relax, soon falling into a deeper sleep than she could remember ever having. 

***

“How long do you think we will do this this time?”  
  
Lexa smirked, the corners of her lips turning up as she leaned forward, her arms wrapping around her wife's waist. She ended her question with a teasing peck to Clarke's neck, her nose nudging along the blonde's jaw. They stood outside Tris' and Skylar's bedroom, the door pushed open just a little wider so that they could peak inside. They could hear steady breathing coming from inside the room, an obvious sign that both little girls had fallen asleep.  
  
Clarke grinned even as her body pushed back against Lexa's, happily sinking into her wife's hold.  
  
“I don't know,” she replied, voice barely above a whisper so that they wouldn't disturb either of the sleeping figures in the room. “I think it took us about two weeks before we stopped watching Cal and were able to just go to bed. So probably two weeks.”  
  
“But there are two of them now,” Lexa pointed out, eyebrows lifting. “Wouldn't that mean twice as long?” Clarke shrugged, her grin just growing before saying, “Okay fine, a month then.” She felt Lexa shake her head, but could see the smile on her face from the corner of her eyes.  
  
For a few minutes they stood in silence, just staring forward into the bedroom, each lost in their own thoughts until Clarke spoke up again.  
  
“How long do you think it'll be before they trust us?” she wondered, and this time she felt Lexa's shoulders lift. “It takes as long as it takes, my love,” the brunette informed her, her head moving forward and chin resting lightly on her wife's shoulder. Clarke nodded, leaning back against Lexa, still staring ahead. “I know. I just hope Tris realizes she and Skylar won't ever be split up again. I know what it's like, living every day in fear that the person you care about most will be taken away from you. A little girl shouldn't have to worry about that.” Lexa's grip around the blonde tightened, pulling her closer, her smirk falling away. She knew what Clarke was referring to, and turned her head, burying her face in golden locks.  
  
“She will realize that she and Skylar are both safe and will be together for the rest of their lives,” she promised the other woman. “We are all here and nothing will take any of us away.”  
  
Clarke closed her eyes, her head falling back a little to rest against Lexa's shoulder. One hand moved down to her waist, meeting one of Lexa's and slipping her finger's between the brunette's, while the other reached up, playing absentmindedly with the necklace that always hung from the thin silver chain around her neck. The little crystal star felt cool to her touch, but quickly warmed up as she rolled it between her fingertips.  
  
Once again a long silence fell between them, but this time it was Lexa who broke it, and even before she spoke Clarke could feel her small smile against her neck.  
  
“So which of us is Pauna, and which is Panther?” she asked, referring back to the conversation earlier in the day. She heard Clarke let out a little laugh, the sound light and quiet in the dark.  
  
“As if that's even a question,” she replied, and then turned slightly, shooting Lexa a small smirk over her shoulder. “You're Pauna, and I'm Panther.”  
  
“And why do you say that?” Lexa wanted know, a little surprised by the answer. She had always thought herself more reserved and Clarke more outgoing, making her answer the opposite of the blonde's.  
  
“You're the one that acts all tough and intimidating, but really we both know that if anyone tried to mess with you, I'd be the one kicking ass,” Clarke answered easily. Her smirk grew as she felt Lexa's mouth part, obviously surprised.  
  
“I'm sorry, who is the Marine?” the brunette asked, raising an eyebrow. “I'm Heda, remember? I kick ass on a daily basis.”  
  
“And I'm _Wan_ heda, remember?” the blonde reminded her, mirroring her raised eyebrow. “Clearly more terrifying than Heda.” Remembering the day that Clarke had earned her monicker, Lexa had to give in. She had to admit, she'd never been more intimidated by another person than she was when Clarke came barging into Ryder's hospital room and stared her down.  
  
“You know, I think Ryder is still a little afraid of you because of that day,” she accused the blonde, rather than truly admitting her defeat. She felt more than heard the blonde scoff and then watched as her eyebrow just ticked up even higher. “And who was it that had the bright idea to go walking around a hospital only a few days after getting blown up?” she wanted to know. Lexa looked up at the ceiling, almost as though she were asking some other-wordly being for help to win the argument but knew it was of no use. “You are never going to let me live that down, are you?”  
  
“Nope,” Clarke just said with a grin, tightening her grip on Lexa's hand and pressing even harder up against her. The brunette let out a sigh, knowing that she'd lost this argument before it even began, and let the conversation drop, perfectly content to once again rest her chin against her wife's shoulder and just stare into their daughters' bedroom. Clarke felt her settle against her and smiled.  
  
“We probably should be getting to bed,” she admitted, even though she made no indication she was ready to move to their own bedroom. “Who knows what time Skylar tends to get up in the morning? Or Tris, even.” Lexa's arms shifted against the blonde's waist, somehow managing to pull her even closer.  
  
“Just a few more minutes,” she insisted, the words whispered practically straight into Clarke's ear, she stood so close. The blonde chuckled, the sound low, but nodded.  
  
“Whatever you say, Heda,” she replied, perfectly content to stay there with her love, focused on the two new additions to their amazing family. She didn't know how long they would continue to do this, but Clarke was pretty sure she'd be perfectly happy moving to this same spot every night, held in her love's arms while they listened to their children sleep peacefully. 

***

“Alright kiddo, let's see you get that ball past me!” Jake Griffin teased, the usual twinkle in his eye as he held a hockey stick in his hands. He stood in front of the small portable net, grinning in front of him where Calvin stood, shuffling the small blue ball back and forth with his own stick, clearly trying to decide the best way to get past his grandfather and get a goal. Calvin shot him a grin and then moved, Jake's stick coming down to the grass just a fraction too late to keep the ball from spinning right past him and bouncing against the net.  
  
“Goal!” he shouted, throwing his fist up in the air, his stick going up with it.  
  
“Remember to keep your stick on the ground,” Lexa reminded him from her chair where she sat and watched. “You don't want to get a penalty for high-sticking.” Calvin rolled his eyes at his mother, informing her, “You don't get a penalty for cheering, Ma. When you get a goal you can put your stick in the air.”  
  
Lexa and Jake's eyes met, sharing a look as they both tried not to smile at the slight exasperation in the boy's voice. “My apologies,” she said, looking back at her son and holding her hands up. “I am still getting used to all of the rules of hockey.”  
  
Jake met her eyes and his grin grew. “The best way to get familiar with the rules is to play!” he exclaimed, nodding to the spare stick laying in the grass by the brunette's side. “Come on, let's see if you can get a goal as easily as your son can! I gotta warn you both though, I think I'm getting the hang of this goalie thing, so it's going to be harder to get another!” For a few seconds Lexa tried to decline the offer, but soon Jake and Calvin's cajoling did the trick and she was up on her feet, hockey stick in hand and running around with her son, trying to shoot the small ball into the goal behind her father-in-law.  
  
Clarke watched the three of them, her lips curling into a small smile. She stood on the other side of the front lawn with her mother and Gustus, she and Abby trying to set up the folding tables they'd brought while Gustus tried to man the grill. Currently that was proving difficult for the gentle giant, as his attention had been stolen by the toddler in his arms, Skylar's little fingers twisting and tangling themselves in his massive beard, clearly enthralled with it. Clarke hadn't been sure how she would react to the three grandparents when they showed up, Gustus especially considering even now after years of knowing him Clarke still thought he looked like he easily could have killed someone and gotten away with it, but after some initial shyness, the little girl had seemed to take to him immediately. The feeling was clearly mutual, as Clarke wasn't sure she'd ever seen Gustus's smile grow so wide or his expression become so soft.  
  
While she and her mother and father-in-law tried to get everything ready for dinner and Calvin and Lexa and her father played lawn-hockey, Tris stood awkwardly in the middle, clearly torn between her constant need to make sure Skylar was okay, and an obvious interest in the game being played in front of her. Looking over at the young girl, Clarke abandoned the pile of paper plates she was holding, just setting the entire stack on the table nearest her, and made her way over to her.  
  
“Hey,” she said, stepping up beside Tris. The girl looked at her briefly, clearly trying to mask the look of interest the blonde could still easily read there. She motioned to the game, telling her, “Why don't you go play? I know we have another stick or two, and I'm sure they would be more than happy to tell you the rules.” Watching her father dart out of the net to pick Calvin up and spin him around just before he could hit the ball towards the net again, Clarke amended, “Although honestly, they might not really be playing with any rules right now.”  
  
“I'm fine,” Tris informed her, sticking out her chin just a bit. She turned back, eyes falling immediately on her sister, and watched her for a second. The blonde followed her gaze, saying, “Alright, well then why don't you come help us set the table?” She saw the little girl eye first Gustus and then Abby, before just shaking her head. Holding in a sigh, Clarke's hand fell lightly to her shoulder, giving her a small hug. “Alright, well if you change your mind either of us would be happy to have your help. It looks like my dad could really use someone on his team: Calvin and Lexa are crushing him.” Tris just gave a non-committal shrug, turning back to the game.  
  
With an inner sigh Clarke left her, clearly able to tell that Tris didn't want her there at the moment, and moved back to the table she'd dropped the plates on. Grabbing a stack of napkins and placing them by the plates, she felt someone move up next to her, and then felt a hand on her shoulder.  
  
“Give it time, sweetheart,” her mother murmured to her, eyes looking from Tris back to her. “It's just going to take some time for her to get used to it here. This is all a big change for her, even if she's been through it before.”  
  
“I know,” Clarke sighed, one hand rubbing along her forehead. “I do; I remember how hard it was when Calvin first joined the family. It's going to take time for Tris and Skylar too.” So far things hadn't been too terrible, she had to admit. It was the third day the two girls had been with them, and they were all still just trying to see how they fit together. They'd all gone out yesterday, hitting various stores so that Tris and Skylar could both pick out some of their own things and so that she and Lexa could get everything they hadn't thought they would need and quickly learned otherwise, and then had spent the rest of the day together. Aside from Tris's insistence that she and Skylar wouldn't be there for long because their mother would eventually find them and they would go home, it had all run fairly smoothly. The scariest moment had been when Lexa had walked into the kitchen earlier that morning and found Tris standing on a chair in front of the stove, a pan on one burner and the burner on. Tris hadn't understood why Lexa had immediately whisked her off of the chair and away from the burner, quickly turning it off in the process and telling her that that was in no way acceptable. Seeing the confusion on the little girl's face as she rolled her eyes and explained that she _knew_ how to use a stove and _knew_ how to make eggs, jeeze, how old did they think she was?, just about tore Clarke's heart in two as she was once again reminded of just how old this five-year old really was and all she'd been forced to learn so quickly. Other than that and a few glares however, things seemed to be going relatively smoothly so far, all things considered.  
  
“Thanks for agreeing to move family dinner to our place tonight,” Clarke told her mother, her voice loud enough so that Gustus could hear it too, and the man nodded to her, indicating he heard and it hadn't been a problem. Glancing at the toddler still in the man's arms, eyes still wide as she stared up at him as though in awe, she told them, “We just thought it would be better to have everyone meet here, so that if it gets to be too overwhelming for Tris or Skylar, at least they're somewhere at least a little familiar.”  
  
“Of course,” Abby replied, squeezing her shoulder once before letting her hand drop. “Tris and Skylar's comfort is the most important thing, and I'm glad you and Lexa thought of this. It's good to introduce them to the family, but we can be a lot to take in at once. Especially those aunts of theirs.” Her mother's eyes twinkled, thinking of all the mischief Clarke used to get up to with Octavia and Raven by her side, and as thankful as always that her daughter had managed to find two such amazing friends. Clarke's eyes rolled, mouth naturally turning up into a partial smile. “Oh god, what were we thinking, inviting them over so soon? They're definitely going to scare them away. We should have waited until it would be easier for them.”  
  
Abby grinned, raising an eyebrow as she walked around the table, shifting some of the dishes around as she went. “I'm not sure there's ever an easy time to introduce people to Octavia and Raven, honey. I think you've just got to hold your breath and see what happens.” Gustus nodded, finally looking away from the little girl in his arms and instead meeting the blonde's eyes. “I think she's right,” he told her, thinking back on the many handfuls of times he'd been around the two women in question. “There is a certain energy that those two possess that makes preparing for them almost impossible.”  
  
Sighing, Clarke gave a defeated nod. “I know,” she admitted, one hand rising to fiddle with her necklace, a nervous habit she had developed years ago. “We'll just have to wait and hope they don't scare the girls too much.” As if she knew they were talking about her, Skylar began to shift around in Gustus's arms, clearly no longer interested in his incredible beard and in search of something else. She twisted, looking behind her as best she could, and grinned when she saw Clarke. She reached out with one arm, little fingers curling as though she were trying to grab for the woman, and Clarke felt her heart ache so wonderfully in her chest as her face softened.  
  
“Hey there little girl,” she murmured, quickly striding over and taking the toddler from her new grandfather. “What are you doing, huh?” Skylar smiled, her few little teeth poking out from thin lips, and curled her fingers around the blonde's shirt. Bouncing her lightly, Clarke nodded back to Gustus. “That's Grandpa Gustus. Can you say 'grandpa?'” The toddler just babbled, still grinning back and forth between Clarke and the man with the big fuzzy beard. Turning to look at her mother, Clarke pointed at Abby, saying, “That's Nana Abby. What about 'nana?' Can you say 'nana,' Skylar?” More babbling, all meaning something to the girl but not the adults around her, and Clarke just shrugged. “That's okay sweetie, we'll just keep working on it. You'll be talking in no time.” She dropped a quick kiss to the little girl's forehead, earning a happy shriek from her that only made the surgeon's smile grow.  
  
Tris heard her sister shriek and turned around to see what was going on, even though she could tell Sky wasn't upset about anything. She found her sister in Clarke's arms, the blonde pressing a kiss against her forehead, and felt something burn hot in her chest. She shouldn't be treating Skylar that way: it was just going to confuse the little girl, make it hard for her when their mother finally found them and took them home. It was dumb to get attached to any of these people, and even though Tris knew she definitely wasn't, she was afraid Skylar might be. She would have to try to explain everything to the toddler that night when they were alone in their room. It was her job to keep Sky safe, and sometimes that meant making sure she didn't put herself in a position to be hurt.  
  
She heard a small thud beside her and broke her gaze away from her sister, glancing down instead to find Calvin sitting on the ground next to her. She could see his floppy hair sticking slightly to his forehead, noticed the way his chest heaved just the slightest, but also noticed his little grin. He nodded towards Skylar and his mother. “Skylar looks pretty happy.”  
  
“She'll be happier when it's our mom holding her and not yours,” she replied quickly, her voice a little rougher than she meant it to be. He looked up to meet her eyes but she quickly looked away, clenching her jaw stubbornly.  
  
“Isn't it just okay she's happy now?” he wanted to know, head tilting to the side slightly. “I mean, that's better than being unhappy, right?” She didn't say anything, still refusing to meet his eyes, and his voice lowered slightly. “You know it'll be okay, right? If she wants to be part of our family. Or you know, if you do.”  
  
“I don't wanna be part of this family,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. Finally looking at him again, she crossed her arms across her front. “This family's so _weird_ , why would I wanna be in it?”  
  
Rather than take offense, he just grinned. “You haven't even seen the weirdest ones yet. Just wait until you meet Aunt Octavia and Aunt Raven. _They're_ weird. But awesome.”  
  
Tris didn't believe it, didn't think it could get any weirder than this, but just a few minutes later she was proven wrong when a big car pulled into the driveway and she saw Calvin's grin grow. A woman and a man got out of the car, and then two kids jumped out as well, both with grins that easily matched Calvin's.  
  
“Oh heck yes!” the woman shouted, pumping a fist up in the air as she and the two kids quickly walked to the gate and swung it open. “Tell me that you have another couple of sticks! Cal, what do you say to a scrimmage? Me and Jonas against you and your Ma, with Poppa G in net? First to ten wins?”  
  
“You're on!” Calvin called, jumping back up to his feet. Before moving too far, he gave Tris another smile, telling her, “If you wanna play, just come over, kay? We can find you a stick or figure out new rules or something.” When Tris just shrugged, finally nodding, he shot her another smile before running back towards the playing area.  
  
“You know, sometimes I think she loves sports more than she loves me,” the man who'd gotten out of the car said, and when Tris looked back her eyes widened. He carried a kid in either arm, each looking like they were only a little older than Skylar, and both wriggling around, clearly wanting to get down too.  
  
“Love ya, babe!” the woman just called, blowing him a kiss and then immediately having her attention drawn to the game starting around her as the little boy that had joined the game with her smacked the ball with the hockey stick he'd been handed. “Nice hit, Jonas!” she yelled, and then ran after the ball, Lexa already darting after it.  
  
“Love you too, honey,” the man replied though Tris doubted the woman heard him. The girl watched as Clarke moved over to him, a large smile on her lips while Skylar eyed the newcomers warily, especially the rowdy kids in the man's arms.  
  
“Well glad you could finally make it!” Clarke joked, beaming up at Lincoln. He grinned down at her, nodding to the two rascals desperately trying to get down in his arms. “Having four children to wrangle and pile into the car slows you down a bit,” he admitted, and then shook his head, still grinning as the twins began pushing on his chest. “Down!” Olivia ordered, pushing again, and her brother quickly picked up on the demand, echoing, “Down Daddy, down!”  
  
“Okay okay, I hear you,” he told them, kneeling down and finally setting them on the grass. Almost as soon as they were free both were off, running and laughing and no doubt about to get into some kind of trouble. He looked quickly over to the gate, making sure he'd securely shut it after entering the front yard: the last thing he needed was for either of his two rugrats to get out into the road. With the gate safely shut, he could breathe a sigh of relief and let his youngest two run around as much as they wanted to. Maybe they would get rid of some of their excess energy and actually fall asleep on time tonight. That would be absolutely _wonderful_.  
  
Standing back up, Lincoln caught Clarke grinning at him, and he quirked an eyebrow at her. “You look a little exhausted,” she informed him, and he gave a shrug. “I wouldn't pass up a nap,” he admitted. “But I don't get the opportunity for one of those very often, between being a husband, a father of four, and having to work in my free time.” The blonde nodded to him in sympathy, clearly understanding, and as she did the toddler she held reached out, suddenly very interested in her necklace. As Clarke tried to carefully pry the crystal away, Lincoln smiled. “And who is this beautiful little girl?”  
  
“This is Skylar,” Clarke answered, shifting the toddler in her hold as she finally released the necklace. At her name, Skylar looked up at her, shooting her another toothy grin, and Lincoln could practically see the blonde's heart melting. “And that,” she continued, looking up and smiling at the other little girl standing awkwardly between them and the game being played across the yard, “Is Tris. Tris? Can you come here for a second, please?” She saw Tris look back at her, eyes dart first to Lincoln and then to Skylar, and then the girl was making her way over to them.  
  
“Tris,” she said as the girl reached them, “This is Lincoln. He's one of Lexa's and my best friends. That woman over there is his wife, Octavia. Octavia and I have been best friends since we were only a little older than you.” She pointed out all of the children in turn, starting with the little boy playing the game with Calvin and the adults. “That's their oldest son, Jonas. He's about a year older than you. And then that,” she pointed to the girl watching the game, cheering Jonas and Calvin on equally, “Is their oldest daughter, Emma. She's Cal's age. And then those two,” she pointed to the two littlest kids, where they were now trying to throw a ball for Pauna, but were clearly fighting over the ball, “Are their twins, Olivia and Andrew. They'll be two in about a month.”  
  
“Don't remind me,” Lincoln groaned, rolling his eyes. “I am not looking forward to a set of terrible twos. And something tells me with them it might be even more terrible.” Clarke grinned at him, giving him a look. “I'm sure you and Octavia will survive,” she assured him. Before he could say anything in response, they were all distracted by a cheer going up with the players, Lexa and Calvin high-fiving while Octavia and Jonas groaned and Jake rubbed the back of his head, as though he were trying to figure out how the ball had just gone by him. Having been watching the game and seen whatever happened, Emma was laughing, nearly falling to the ground, while even Abby and Gustus were smiling over by the table.  
  
“Alright Griffin-Woods, you may have gotten the first goal, but you're still going down,” they all heard Octavia taunt, Jonas piping in with a quick, “Yeah!”  
  
“We wish you the best of luck, don't we?” Lexa called back, winking at Calvin, and he nodded. “Yeah, you're gonna need,” he added, more playful than Tris had seen him yet, and she watched as Jake threw the ball back into play, both teams running for it. Tris watched as the game continued, the ball bouncing back and forth from one stick to another, but looked up as an old truck pulled into the driveway just as Octavia was about to try to shoot the ball into the net. “It's about time Raven got here,” she heard Clarke say, and saw her flash a smile at Lincoln before she looked back towards the car. The engine turned off, the door banging open a second later, and then a woman nearly jumped out of the car.  
  
“Alright everyone, that's right, the favorite aunt has arrived and now the party can finally start! I know I know, don't all cheer at once!” the woman exclaimed loudly, throwing her arms up in the air, and Tris heard Clarke chuckle even as she shook her head. The little girl watched this newest member of the group lope towards the gate, throwing it open dramatically, and just felt her forehead scrunch up. This had to be the _weirdest_ family. Ever. 

***

__

_Two Months Later_

For once when her cell phone rang, Lexa answered it. With her focus entirely on the file she was trying to fill out on the collar she and Roan had just brought in, she didn't even bother to check the caller ID before bringing it up to her ear, murmuring a quick greeting. It took a moment for her concentration to break, as she heard a hurried voice saying something about “fight,” and “Tris,” and “...Need to come right now... already called the other parents,” and for a second she couldn't breathe, fear gripping her chest and knocking the air out of her. And then the next second the call disconnected, and whether she was the one who hung up or the person on the other line had she didn't know and she didn't care. Unable to complete any of the dozens of thoughts flying through her mind, she jumped up from her chair, grabbing her blazer from the back of it. With a hurried explanation to Roan, her partner just nodding and telling her to go, she all but ran out of the building, rushing to her car and speeding away in minutes, an irony considering it was only a few short years ago she had given tickets to people for doing the same thing.  
  
Normally it took fifteen minutes to get from the Polaris Police Station to the daycare: Lexa managed to cut that time nearly in half, and almost before she knew it was pulling into the driveway, seeing more cars there than usual. Heart still pounding in her chest, images of bruises and broken bones and blood siphoning through her mind, Lexa exited the car, inadvertently slamming the door behind her before she made her way to the front door of the daycare. She could hear the sounds of children playing out back, laughter and screaming making it all the way out to the driveway, but pushed the door open. Stepping through the entryway, she rushed into the playroom, her eyes landing almost immediately on the five children sitting on the couches and chairs, clearly waiting to be told they could move.  
  
“Tris!” she exclaimed, relief flooding her system as she ran over to her kids, dropping down to her knees as soon as she reached them and pulling them in for a tight hug. “Cal!”  
  
“Hi Ma,” Calvin muttered, meeting her eyes and then looking down, clearly feeling guilty, and the way he fidgeted in his seat told her how anxious he was. Tris just sat stiffly, arms crossed over her torso, glaring stubbornly at the brunette and pulling away slightly from Lexa's affection. Skylar sat between them, squished into the hug due to her placement, but she at least seemed to be loving it, letting out a little laugh and throwing her arms around Lexa's neck. When the brunette pulled back, the toddler's arms remained around her neck, and Lexa transferred her into her arms, holding the happy little girl close to her.  
  
Of the three of them, Skylar was the only one who looked the same way as she had that morning when Lexa dropped them off. A dark bruise had bloomed along Calvin's jawline, the opposite cheek scuffed as though it had dragged against dirt or tar. Tris's bottom lip was split, the wound clearly only having stopped bleeding a few minutes ago, and a small cut had opened up along her forehead. The other two children sitting there, two girls a little older than Tris, seemed to be in about the same shape. All four kids had ice packs, the other two children hiding behind theirs while Calvin fidgeted with his and Tris held hers in an iron grip.  
  
“What happened?” Lexa just asked, her voice a little more clipped than she meant it to be, and Cal flinched, eyes darting away again even as Tris continued to meet her stare.  
  
“They were making fun of Sky,” Tris growled, shooting a glare at the two girls, both who looked like they were wishing they could be anywhere but there at the moment. “They called her stupid and retarded cause she doesn't talk much and a cry-baby cause she cries a lot, and when I told them to shut up they didn't. So I hit 'em.”  
  
“I tried to stop it, but I couldn't,” Calvin muttered, his spine seeming to curve in on itself as he sunk into the couch. Forcing his gaze to meet his mother's he whispered, “Sorry.”  
  
Opening her mouth to respond, a voice from behind Lexa cut her off, drawing all of the attention towards one of the doorways.  
  
“Mrs. Griffin-Woods,” they heard, and Lexa turned around to find Miss Lucy standing nervously behind her. “Please come with me. Mrs. Sydney and Mr. Shumway are already here so that we can all talk about this... incident together. Your kids know they are expected to stay in time-out.”  
  
Lexa wanted to argue, not wanting to leave the three kids, but could see the determination beneath the woman's nerves, and finally nodded. Carefully extracting herself from Skylar's hold, she tucked her back in between the other two, giving her a reassuring smile as the toddler began to tear up, her bottom lip quivering.  
  
“It's okay honey, I'll be back in a few minutes,” she murmured to her, gently cupping her cheek. “You stay here with Tris and Calvin, okay? I have to go talk with Miss Lucy.” The little girl's lip continued to quiver but she snuggled up against Tris, her sister's arm immediately curling around her and holding her close. Lexa leaned forward to press a light kiss to the toddler's forehead and then squeezed Calvin and Tris's knees, trying to reassure them.  
  
The mother followed Miss Lucy into what was clearly her office space, the daycare provider closing the door behind her. The moment she entered the room, Lexa could feel the hostility inside spike from the two people already there, the woman immediately jumping up as soon as she saw her.  
  
“How dare your children attack my daughter!” she nearly screamed, eyes wide with fury. “My daughter's covered with bruises and cuts, bleeding everywhere, and they just-”  
  
“Clearly your children are little monsters,” Mr. Shumway piped up, more quietly but no less viciously than the woman. “Which may be expected with where they come from, but when they decide to go after my child then they become my business and I-”  
  
“Woah, I'm sorry, what do you mean 'where they come from?'” Lexa asked, bristling at the man's comment. It had been her intention to keep a level head, her hope that they all would be able to in order to get to the bottom of this, but that comment sliced through an already raw nerve. “Are you indicating that because my children were all in the foster system that they are somehow less than you?”  
  
“Well it certainly wasn't _our_ children that ferociously attacked anyone unprovoked!” Mrs. Sydney insisted, taking a step closer to Lexa and poking her chest, her finger digging into the skin. Years of training her body came flooding back to the brunette, and it took everything in her not to grab the woman's arm and throw her over her shoulder like she had done countless times to the people in her unit back in the Marines. She had to remind herself that this woman was a civilian, that she was a civilian now, and that resorting to violence was the whole reason they were there, stuffed together in this small office space. Rather than grab the woman's arm, her hands curled into fists at her sides, fingernails biting into her palms.  
  
“While I don't agree that violence is a solution, it does not sound as though my daughter was unprovoked,” Lexa argued, doing her best to keep her tone even. She stared at the other woman, her eyes hard, and saw something in her expression flicker, quickly pulling her hand back. “Tris told me that your daughters were picking on my youngest. Apparently they were calling her names that are not only rude but offensive.”  
  
“Of course she would say that,” Mrs. Sydney growled, rolling her eyes, while Mr. Shumway declared, “My daughter would never do that!”  
  
“Please!” Miss Lucy yelled, finally managing to break over all of them. All three parents looked at her, and she gestured to the three chairs in front of her little desk. “Please sit down. We need to go over this as calmly as possible.”  
  
“Where were you when this happened?” Mr. Shumway wanted to know, eyes narrowing at the woman. “Or either of the other supervisors?”  
  
“We were each busy helping the other children,” Miss Lucy answered, a little defensively. “Everyone was outside for playtime, and everything was fine until we heard the screaming. I broke it up as soon as I reached them.”  
  
“So you didn't see what happened?” Mrs. Sydney asked, and Miss Lucy shook her head. The other mother turned back to Lexa, nodding as though that proved something. “You see? No one else saw, so that girl is probably just making up an excuse. Really she attacked our children for no reason.”  
  
“'That girl' as you call her has a name,” Lexa informed her between gritted teeth. “And she's a lot of things, but she isn't a liar.” Ignoring her, Mrs. Sydney turned back to the woman sitting behind the desk. “I want her gone. All of them, I want them gone. Throw them out.”  
  
“I agree,” Mr. Shumway said, nodding definitively. “We can't send our children to a place where little monsters like that are allowed to just attack other kids. I won't send my daughter somewhere she isn't safe.”  
  
Lexa's fist tightened, and for a second she feared she would break through the skin. She closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath through her nose before she managed to get out far more calmly than she felt, “I would very much appreciate it if you would stop referring to my children as monsters. I can assure you, I tuck them into bed every night and have yet to see a single claw or fang.” She looked then at Miss Lucy, finding the woman still fidgeting nervously in her chair. “And when my wife and I looked into this place as a daycare for our son and now daughters as well, we were told that there is a zero-tolerance policy in place for bullying. It was one of the reasons we chose this daycare.” Shooting a look at the other two parents she informed them, “In case you have not heard, name-calling is verbal bullying.”  
  
“I agree with you, Mrs. Griffin-Woods, that name-calling is verbal bullying,” Miss Lucy agreed slowly, and Lexa saw both other parents shoot the woman scathing looks. The daycare provider looked at them and then right back at Lexa, giving a little shrug of her shoulders. “Unfortunately, there's no proof that either of the other two girls called anyone any names. Both girls are denying it, which makes it Tris's word against theirs.”  
  
“What did Calvin say?” Lexa wanted to know, trying to tamper down the rage she could feel building in her chest, the woman's words fueling it to the point of burning. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Mrs. Sydney roll her eyes, as though the question were somehow beneath her, somehow irrelevant, but rather than give her the attention, Lexa continued to watch Miss Lucy. With the way her eyes darted away and then back, she could tell she wasn't going to like the answer.  
  
“Calvin agrees with Tris, says that he heard the other girls saying some things, but unfortunately we can't just take his word for it. With the familial connection between he and Tris now, there's no way for us to know whether or not he is simply trying to cover for her to keep her out of trouble.”  
  
Lexa's tongue felt heavy, her rage suddenly weighing it down. “So now instead of just calling Tris a liar, you are saying my son is one too,” she said slowly, her voice dangerously quiet. It was as though Miss Lucy could feel the anger rolling off of her, because she pushed her chair back subconsciously, putting more space between them as she replied rapidly, “I'm sure it's just that he's afraid of getting in trouble too. Calvin is a sweet boy, you know we love having him here, but I can't just overlook this fight. I'm sorry, but Tris is no longer welcome here. Calvin certainly is, and Skylar is too, though we need to figure out something to help her so that she won't cry quite so much once you leave in the morning. I'm afraid it's disruptive, and it takes the focus of one supervisor away from the rest of the children. If it wasn't everyday or didn't last so long it would be fine, but as it is...”  
  
Miss Lucy cut herself off in the middle of her sentence, watching as Lexa rose oh so very slowly from her chair. Mrs. Sydney made to rise as well, possibly not wanting to lose the higher ground, but when cold hard green eyes turned on her, she shrank back into her chair.  
  
“I will take my children out of here,” Lexa informed all three of them, voice even lower than it had been before, and even Mr. Shumway shifted in his seat, suddenly made nervous by the power of the woman standing in front of him. “We will not be returning. I am ashamed that I ever thought this would be the right place for my children, a safe place where none of them would have to worry about bullies or being mistreated. I can see now that I was wrong.” She stared Miss Lucy down for a moment, unblinking as the woman's eyes darted away, her body shrinking into her chair. Turning, she focused her stare on the other two parents, both of whom tried to hold her glare but failed and had to look away. “My wife and I don't believe in using violence to solve a problem, and we will continue to work on teaching this to our children. We also do not believe in using degrading terms on other people, or trying to belittle another person to make yourself feel better. I highly suggest you teach this lesson to your children as well, though in order to do so you may have to learn that lesson yourselves. I can only hope your daughters grow up to be better human beings than either of you are. Hopefully the cycle of ignorance will end with you.”  
  
She didn't wait to watch Mrs. Sydney's jaw drop or Mr. Shumway's teeth clench. She turned on her heel, marching out of the office and quietly closing the door behind her, even though the fire burning in her stomach demanded she slam it until the hinges shook. Without looking back on the closed door or waiting for any of those she'd left inside to follow her, she silently stormed back into the playroom, finding her three children still sitting on the couch. Moving up to them she grabbed Skylar, hoisting the toddler up and then nodded towards the other two.  
  
“Come on,” she just said, “We are going home.” As they both jumped off the couch, even Tris clearly sensing that now was not the time to question her, green eyes flickered over to the two girls still waiting for their own parents. “I am sorry that my daughter decided to use violence to settle whatever was happening between you,” she informed them, voice softening only slightly. “However, I hope this shows you that your actions have consequences, even when those actions are simply the use of cruel words. Violence isn't right, but neither is hateful language. I hope you remember that.” Leaving the girls in much the same state she left their parents, Lexa turned again and led the way out of the house, Calvin and Tris hurrying behind her.  
  
Nobody made a sound during the ride home. Even Skylar remained silent, possibly sensing something was up or just having nothing to say. Lexa drove, a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, while the three kids all sat in the back, no one daring to say anything. If she had focused on it, Lexa would have seen how pale Calvin was or how Tris was gripping her crossed arms so tightly it almost hurt, but instead all she could think about were the three adults she'd left behind in that office and all of the ignorant, hateful things they themselves had said. Just listening to them, she didn't doubt that their children were more than capable of using hateful language just as easily, and she didn't have to guess where they had learned it from.  
  
Pulling into their driveway and the garage, Lexa helped the kids out of the car, finally realizing that none of them were okay. Skylar snuggled into her, burying her face into the crook of the brunette's neck as she carried her, while Tris and Calvin once again followed, the boy moving more slowly than usual. She noticed his wide eyes and pursed lips and how he just stared ahead, clearly not seeing what was around him, and felt her heart clench painfully in her chest. Going through the door in the garage and into the living room where Pauna was already waiting for them with a wagging tail, Lexa set Skylar down on the soft carpet before kneeling down and pulling her son close to her.  
  
“I'm sorry, Cal,” she murmured, keeping her voice even and soothing. Holding him, she could practically feel him shaking, and internally she swore at herself for not realizing how all this had affected him sooner. He hadn't been in a fight for over a year now, and clearly this had stirred up feelings and memories he would rather have forgotten altogether. Slowly, almost hesitantly he wrapped his arms around the back of her neck, holding himself against her as though trying to ground himself in place, and she just held him back. “I have you,” she continued, her voice still soft as she rubbed small soothing circles along his back. “I have you, you're safe. You're okay, Calvin. You're home. Mama has you and I'm not letting go.”  
  
True to her word, Lexa continued to hold the eight-year old until he finally stopped shaking, his hands unlinking from behind her back so that he could pull away just slightly. Lexa glanced over at his art corner and then at him, asking gently, “Do you need to have some art time?” He nodded and she returned the motion before gesturing over to the corner, indicating he should go ahead. He gave her a small, shaky smile and then moved over to his table, pulling together the supplies he needed in order to express the many emotions rolling through him. Lexa watched him for a second, the anger she felt still burning in her chest, now at herself as much as it was at those back at the daycare, and then she looked at Tris and Skylar, both just watching her. Skylar sat on the floor, head tilted to the side as though she were studying everything going on around her, and Tris just stared at her, chin sticking out as stubbornly as usual, clearly expecting to be yelled at and just waiting for it.  
  
Instead of yelling, Lexa shook her head.  
  
“I am going to go get you some ice,” she informed them, bracing her hands against her knees and then standing up. She nodded towards their injuries, adding, “Let's see if we can prevent those from getting any worse.” She glanced at Calvin where he was setting up his easel silently and then looked back at the girls. “Tris, why don't you and Skylar do a little art with Cal? I'm sure he won't mind sharing his supplies. Right bud?” Calvin just met her look and shook his head, and the brunette gave him a little smile. “Wonderful. You three stay here and create some art, and I will be back in just a few minutes.”  
  
She left them with Pauna, the dog faithfully watching over them while the mother went to take care of a few other things. Rather than go immediately to the freezer, she bypassed the kitchen altogether and made her way down the hallway. Once at the bottom of the stairs she sat down heavily, her head falling into her hands for a moment while she mentally berated herself. Once done for the time being, she grabbed her cell from her pocket, quickly selecting the most called number and holding the phone up to her ear. She knew it wasn't likely Clarke would be able to talk, probably busy with a patient or a surgery or something, but she had to try.  
  
“Clarke,” she spoke when the call when straight to voicemail, her wife's voice telling her to leave a message and she'll return the call as soon as she could. “I think I did something foolish. I think I did a couple of foolish things, actually.” Her head fell back into her free hand, and she just shook it, eyes closing. “I will explain everything when you get home, but Tris and Cal got into a fight today at daycare. She says that two of the other girls were calling Skylar names and when she told them not to they didn't listen. Which I know isn't a good enough reason to resort to violence, but I have to admit I almost resorted to violence when I had to meet the girls' parents. They were just... Awful. Truly, completely, awful. They made me furious, Clarke, just entirely livid, and Miss Lucy too! We thought she would be a good fit for our kids but we were very, very wrong. So I... I did something, something that might make you mad when I tell you later, but I had very good reason to do it, and I would do it again.” Eyes opening again, Lexa stared at the floor for a long moment, letting the silence draw out as she remembered how much Calvin shook against her. A lump formed in her throat, her eyes burning, and she had to blink rapidly to keep her fury from turning to tears. “Clarke. Calvin, he... I think he had almost a panic attack, and I didn't see it. Not soon enough. He must have been panicking the whole way home, and I was too angry at the ignorance of others to see it. He was hurting so much, and I just ignored it...” She broke off, her tone getting watery before she cleared her throat, forcing it back. “He is alright now, I think, so don't worry. He and the girls are using his art corner. Maybe it will help Tris get out some of her anger.” She found it unlikely, but decided it was worth hoping, at least. Letting out a long sigh, Lexa just shook her head again. “We have some things we need to talk about when you get home tonight, but for now please know that everyone is fine. Tris and Calvin have a few cuts and bruises, but nothing that won't heal in a few days. Skylar is fine, just her usual happy self. We all look forward to seeing you soon, me most of all. I love you. When you are out of work, drive home safe. I will see you soon, Clarke.”  
  
Hanging up the phone, Lexa gave herself another brief moment to simply sit there, trying to take in the events of the day, before she took a deep breath and pushed herself up. Without deviating from her chore this time, she made her way back into the kitchen, moving straight to the freezer and grabbing the ice cube tray. Putting together a couple of ice packs, she wrapped each in a soft washcloth and then headed back towards the kids.  
  
Walking back into the living room, Lexa's eyes widened, her jaw dropping just slightly as she tried to take in what she was seeing. Calvin stood back, a paint brush held tightly in his fist, eyes darting between the mother and what she stared at. Tris stood calmly, her own paintbrush moving against the paper in front of her, but Lexa saw her watching her out of the corner of her eyes, clearly waiting to see what she would do and ready to jump in when needed. Skylar stood away from them both, babbling quietly, lost in her own little world. Her hands were covered in a mixture of paints, blues and reds and greens, and she was leaving little hand prints along the wall, starting at the table where she had clearly found the paint, and moving outwards. When Tris cleared her throat, quite pointedly, the toddler turned around, and Lexa saw that her hands weren't the only things covered in paint: streaks ran down along her face, matted her curls and covered her clothes, clearly dripping into the carpet beneath her.  
  
“Oh,” Lexa stated, momentarily too shocked to think of what else to say. The wires in her brain seemed to be miss-firing, and all she could do was stand there, trying to process what she was seeing.  
  
“I tried to get her to paint on the paper...” Calvin began, nervously watching his mother, waiting to see what she would do. He tapered off, not really knowing what to say or what to expect. He had yet to see either of his mothers lose it like most of the adults he had known before he came to live here, but this seemed like something that could easily push anyone over the top.  
  
“She didn't know she wasn't sposed to do that,” Tris argued before Lexa could even say anything, ready to jump in and defend her sister. She glared at the brunette, clearly waiting for her to start yelling so that she could yell back, but what she did was so much...weirder.  
  
Lexa started laughing. She had no idea why or what started it, but suddenly the tension she'd felt ever since getting the call in the station seemed to leak out of her, draining from her limbs until she felt lighter than she had in a while. Still chuckling she shook her head, striding across the room.  
  
“You know,” she said as she moved, grinning down at Skylar before swooping her up in her arms, tossing her slightly in the air and catching her, the toddler shrieking in laughter as she did so, “When I told you guys you should give painting a try, this is not quite what I meant. Look at you!” Skylar let out another laugh as Lexa scrunched up her nose, making a funny face at her. “You have paint everywhere, silly girl! I think someone needs a bath.”  
  
“Ba!” Skylar exclaimed, grinning up at the brunette, and Lexa nodded at her. “Come on sweet girl, let's go get you cleaned up.” Turning, she looked back at Calvin and Tris, both giving her a strange look, and she just smiled at them. “Will you two be alright here for a few minutes? Skylar and I will be back shortly.” She nodded towards Calvin's easel, an eyebrow rising even as her lips remained turned up. “And please, let's try to keep the paint on the easels from now on, okay?” They both nodded, a little hesitantly, and then Lexa handed them each an ice pack before making her way out of the room and through the house, heading upstairs for the bathtub so she could try to scrub the paint off of the toddler.  
  
Cleaning Skylar was an easier process than it looked like it might be. Since it was meant for children, all it took to wash the paint off her skin was a little warm water and soap. Lexa had to be careful as she worked to get it out of the toddler's hair, but soon those little red curls were back to their rightful color, now wet and matted against her head. After she was clean, Lexa let Skylar just play in the bath for a few minutes, smiling softly as she watched her splash around with her bath toys. Every now and then the little girl would look up at her, give her that always-happy toothy smile, and then go back to her fun, and each time she did Lexa felt her stress melt away a little more. Seeing the pure delight the toddler took in something as simple as a bath seemed to wash the tension out of Lexa's muscles, allowing her to briefly forget everything that had happened in just the last hour or so.  
  
When the water began to shift from warm to lukewarm, Lexa pulled the girl out of the tub, wrapping her up in the softest towel she could find. With the toddle still babbling away, the talk more understandable now to Lexa than it had been when she first arrived two months ago, she carried her to her room, quickly dressing her in clean clothes. When Skylar looked at her crib and reached towards it, asking, “Dodi?,” Lexa grabbed her Doggie for her, the girl immediately holding it tightly to her chest.  
  
Heading back down the stairs with a now-clean toddler in her arms, Lexa was glad to not find anymore surprises as she walked back into the living room. Calvin still stood at his easel, painting away with reds and yellows and browns, while Tris had abandoned her own and now lay on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. She perked up when they both came in, eyes going immediately to her sister, and Lexa deposited the toddler next to her, not missing Tris's relieved smile at having her sister beside her again. Glancing over at Calvin, Lexa called, “Cal? Buddy, could you come over here for a minute? I want to talk to all of you. You can go back to painting after.”  
  
“Okay,” the boy agreed, his tone suddenly nervous, clearly knowing what they needed to talk about. Putting down his paintbrush he moved over to the couch, Lexa squeezing his hand reassuringly as he passed her. Once he was settled with the sisters, he and Tris looked at the mother, him nervously and her stubbornly. Skylar had lost focus on them all, too preoccupied with her Doggie to pay any attention as Lexa sank down in front of them so that she could be closer to eye-level with them.  
  
Slowly looking at each of them, Lexa told them calmly, “I want all three of you to know one very important thing: I love you.” The words seemed to take Tris by surprise, clearly expecting something entirely else, and Lexa gave her a small smile. “Nothing that any of you ever do will ever change that. What happened today though isn't okay. In this house we don't solve our problems with violence.”  
  
“They were making fun of Sky,” Tris argued, clearly defending her actions. At her name, the younger girl looked up, giving first her sister and then Lexa a grin, and the brunette returned the grin before focusing on Tris.  
  
“I believe you,” Lexa informed her, another three words that clearly surprised the girl. “But even when people are using mean words, that doesn't give you the right to try to hurt them. I know it is hard, but when that happens you should just walk away and find an adult.”  
  
“Adults don't do nothing,” Tris growled, crossing her arms again and sinking back into the couch. “Miss Lucy said it was my fault, and didn't even listen when I told her what they said.”  
  
“It's 'adults don't do anything,' and I can understand why you feel that way Tris, but we do,” Lexa replied gently. “We might not always do what you want us to, but we can do something about it. I am sorry though, I know Miss Lucy failed you guys today. It won't happen again.”  
  
“Why?” Calvin asked, his brow furrowing, and Lexa answered, “Because you will not be going back there.” He and Tris both looked at her, eyes widening in shock, and she reached out, grabbing their hands. “I will not leave you guys somewhere you don't feel safe or where other kids are free to pick on you. I won't do it.”  
  
“So...” Calvin said, eyes darting over to Tris and then back to his mother, “Where are we gonna go for daycare?” Lexa shrugged, the start of an idea beginning to take root in her mind, but told him, “I don't know, that's something your mother and I will need to talk about. For now we will check and see if any of your grandparents are able to watch you for a couple of days, and we will go from there.”  
  
“We get to go to Nana and Poppa's, or Grandpa's?” Calvin asked excitedly, clearly not against this idea at all. Lexa smiled at him, squeezing his hand a little tighter. “We'll see,” she answered. “We will have to talk to them first, but hopefully for a couple of days, yes.” She looked over at the wall now decorated with Skylar's hand prints and the carpet splashed with colors beneath it, and shook her head, a small smile pulling again at her lips. Standing up, she told them, “For now though, Calvin why don't you read Skylar one of her books while I clean this room up? Tris, would you like to help me or go with them?”  
  
The little girl looked at her like she was crazy.  
  
“That's it?” she asked incredulously. “You're not gonna yell? We're not in trouble?” Lexa shook her head. “I'm not going to yell, and you are not in trouble.” She pointed to the split in the girl's lip. “Hopefully this is reason enough not to get into anymore fights. But if it's not,” she gave a little shrug, “Then we will talk again about how violence isn't a good way to solve your problems. Now, what will it be, helping me clean or reading with Cal and Skylar?” Again she gave the brunette a look and then just followed the other two to the bookshelf, rolling her eyes as she went.  
  
While the three kids got comfortable again on the couch, this time with a few books, Lexa got to work, gathering together what she hoped would be needed to clean the paint from the wall. Unfortunately for her, the paint didn't seem to want to come off of the wall quite as easily as it had washed off of Skylar, and soon she could feel beads of sweat forming along her hairline. She welcomed it, always feeling better when she was exerting herself, and just wished she could go for a run once she had finished, the endorphins it would give her a welcome jolt. Instead she started thinking about what she would make for dinner once the wall no longer had paint on it, her own stomach beginning to rumble. Clarke had left out a pot roast to cook if she got out of work at a decent hour, and Lexa winced as she remembered the smoke from the last time she had tried to cook one. She had learned quickly after returning to civilian life that she couldn't cook anything that wasn't made over an open fire, a fact first Clarke and then Calvin always teased her for. Still, figuring out the pot roast couldn't be that difficult, and if she could it would be a nice surprise for Clarke when she got home.  
  
That idea went out the window when she heard footsteps a few minutes later and turned to see Clarke in the doorway, two large pizza boxes in her hands. She met Lexa's eyes first, her smile soft, reassuring, telling her silently that she'd gotten her wife's message. Turning to the three kids on the couch, that smile grew, a little forcefully as her eyes flickered over the injuries clearly adorning the two older kids' faces.  
  
“Hey guys,” she greeted, holding the pizza boxes out. “Who's hungry?”  
  
“Pizza!” Calvin exclaimed, dropping the book he was halfway through beside him and jumping off the couch. Tris followed after him, her face lighting up, and Skylar shuffled off the couch after them, clearly not knowing why everyone was suddenly so happy but delighted to play along. All three kids ran right by Clarke, going to their spots at the table so they could eat, and Clarke laughed as she watched them go.  
  
“Well that certainly had its intended effect,” she joked, looking over at her wife, watching as Lexa pushed herself off the floor. An eyebrow rose as she looked at the wall, smudges of color still present and the carpet not even touched at yet, and Lexa just shook her head.  
  
“It would appear Skylar didn't realize that paint is meant for paper, not the wall,” she informed the blonde, striding over to her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. She took one of the pizza boxes from Clarke's hands, smiling at it in relief. No potential pot roast fiasco tonight: good. Clarke caught her smile, her own growing as she informed her, “Your message made it sound like tonight would be a good night for take out.”  
  
“It is,” Lexa agreed. Clarke looked over her shoulder, worry suddenly pulling at her brow, her voice lowering. “They're okay?” she asked, turning back to Lexa. “Those injuries, they look-”  
  
Lexa cut the worrying off with a quick kiss.  
  
“They're okay,” she assured her wife, pulling away. She looked into blue eyes still not convinced and added, “As the doctor, you are more than welcome to take a look at their injuries, but they look pretty minor to me.”  
  
“What happened?” she wanted to know. Lexa's eyes flickered to look over the blonde's shoulder, taking a quick look at the three kids still situating themselves around the table. “Two of the girls at daycare were picking on Skylar, it sounds like,” she informed her. “They were calling her stupid and retarded, and when Tris told them to stop, they didn't. So she did the only thing she knew how to do, and hit them. I believe Calvin was trying to break it up when he somehow got pulled into it too.”  
  
“They were calling her...” Clarke repeated, processing the words, and Lexa could see her own fury playing along the other woman's face. “And Miss Lucy didn't do anything to stop it?”  
  
“According to her, nobody else heard the two girls saying any of that, so there was nothing she could do,” Lexa replied, her tone clipped, the anger once again rolling through her stomach. This time it was controlled, remaining in her gut, but its heat still felt welcome whenever she thought of any of the three people she'd left behind in that office. “She and the parents of the two girls were basically calling both Tris and Cal liars, and one of them kept referring to them all as monsters. Miss Lucy told me that Tris was no longer welcome there because of the fight, but claimed she couldn't do anything about the other girls. So I... I told her we wouldn't be coming back.”  
  
Lexa waited, unsure how Clarke would react to the last bit. It had taken them weeks to decide on the daycare when Calvin had first come to live with them, and pulling them out of it without talking with Clarke first had been a rash decision. The blonde however seemed to agree, her eyes widening briefly before she nodded.  
  
“Good,” she just said. “We'll find somewhere better for our kids. Somewhere safer.” Lexa nodded also, relief flooding through her that Clarke wasn't mad, but before she could say anything they both heard chanting start up from the kitchen.  
  
“Piz-za, piz-za, piz-za!”  
  
Clarke grinned, rolling her eyes before turning around, finally turning back to their children sitting at their spots at the table. “Alright my little barbarians, here you go.”  
  
Dinner was quick, the slices of pizza wolfed down in what easily could have been some sort of record time. After, while Lexa cleaned Skylar up, pizza sauce coating her chin and hands, Clarke took a closer look at Cal and Tris's injuries, Calvin just sitting still while she looked at his and Tris rolling her eyes while she looked at hers. Once the doctor had settled her own nerves and declared them okay, all three kids got ready for bed, getting into jammies and comfy clothes. For another hour or so the family hung out in the living room, the kids playing while Clarke and Lexa both worked on their own things, and then it was bedtime. Continuing a tradition they had started about a month ago, they all piled on Clarke and Lexa's bed, listening as Clarke read them a story, and then they all split up, the mothers tucking them into their own beds.  
  
“Another day down,” Clarke murmured, leaning against Lexa as the two made their way downstairs, and Lexa muttered her agreement. The blonde grabbed her laptop from the living room and then joined Lexa in the kitchen, setting it up on the island so she could search for a new daycare. “So do you have any place in mind?” she asked, opening her browser and typing her request into the search bar.  
  
“I was thinking we could call my father and your parents, and see if any of them would be able to watch the kids for a little while,” Lexa replied, leaning against the island and crossing her arms over her front, suddenly reminded of Tris. She smiled slightly and shook her head, while an idea that had been nudging against the corners of her mind for the past few hours began to really take shape.  
  
“Sounds good, but we can't do that indefinitely,” Clarke reminded her, not even looking away from her computer's screen. “Mom still works full time at the hospital, and my dad still goes off on his business trips pretty regularly, and your dad spends most of his time working too. We can't ask any of them to take much time off from work.”  
  
“Yes, I know, we would just have to figure out the next two weeks,” Lexa agreed, and from the corner of her eyes she saw Clarke frown, giving her a confused look.  
  
“It doesn't need to take us two weeks to find a new daycare, Lexa,” she replied, lifting an eyebrow. “I mean I know we can be picky, but that might be a little much, don't you think?”  
  
Lexa nodded, her brow furrowed as she stared off in front of her, the pieces of her idea falling into place. Clarke watched her for a second, studying her. “Lexa?”  
  
“What if I gave the station my two week notice?” the brunette suddenly asked, the words seeming to pop out of her. Clarke's jaw dropped, not expecting that in a million years.  
  
“Wait, what?” she asked, entirely thrown by the turn of the conversation. All attention pulled away from Google, Clarke gave her wife a look. “Lexa, are you seriously talking about quitting your job?” When Lexa hesitated just a second and then nodded, the blonde shook her head. “But you love your job. You love _having_ a job. You've always said you needed one, needed an important purpose. Remember senior year of high school? You were freaking out for months before you decided to join the Marines. And when you came home after with your injuries, you just wanted to heal so that you could find your next one. Are you telling me that you, Alexandria Woods, want to quit?”  
  
Lexa met Clarke's eyes, and the blonde was surprised to see the absolute certainty shining back at her from bright green.  
  
“No,” Lexa replied, her voice calm. “I am telling you that I, Alexandria Griffin-Woods, want to switch jobs.” When Clarke just shook her head, still entirely confused, Lexa turned fully to her. “You are right, Clarke: I've always wanted to do something important with my life. First that important thing was being a Marine, a Grounder. Then it was being your wife. Then it was becoming a detective. Now it's this.” She looked up, picturing the three children sleeping above them, and her heart clenched. “I think this may be the most important thing I have done yet,” she whispered, and noticed Clarke's face soften. When she felt her wife's hand slip into her own, she looked back at her, the pain clear in her expression. “Tris still expects us to give up on her,” she continued, her voice almost breaking, and she could see her hurt reflecting back at her from overly-bright blue eyes. “She is just waiting for the day when Keenan shows back up at our doorstep to take her to the next place. Skylar cries as soon as she loses sight of us or Tris, obviously afraid we won't be coming back. Calvin is still suffering from everything his birth parents put him through and his own time in the system; I thought he was doing a lot better, but today I saw those walls break down, saw how scared he still is.” She shook her head, fighting against the burning lump she could feel growing in her throat. “These are our kids,” she added forcefully, her grip tightening against Clarke's hand. “It is our job to make sure they feel safe, and to make sure that they all know that they are loved and that we aren't going anywhere and will not let anyone take them from us. With both of us working the jobs we are right now, we can't devote the kind of time to them that they need.” She grabbed Clarke's other hand, stepping closer to her wife and leaning towards her. “You spent far more time working towards your job than I did,” she murmured, pressing her forehead against the blonde's. “I am not going to ask you to quit or give up on it now. I didn't. I didn't spend years working towards being a detective, so I don't mind. I would rather quit what I'm doing now and focus on our kids, if that means proving to all three of them that we are here for them.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Clarke wanted to know, her voice quiet. “This is kind of an abrupt decision. I don't want you to regret it.” Lexa nodded, pressing her forehead harder against the other woman's. “I am sure,” she declared, her expression completely serious. “Taking care of those three kids is the most important thing I could ever possibly do.”  
  
Clarke's eyes flickered across her wife's face, reading everything there, and all she saw was certainty that she was making the right choice. Her heart clenched in her chest, her love for the brunette skyrocketing even when she thought she couldn't possibly love the other woman any more than she already did. She nodded, not looking away from the brunette, as she said, “Okay then; you'll quit your job so you can stay home with the kids. Between my income and everything we already have saved up, we should be fine, financially.” She grinned then, shaking her head, clearly a little amused. “Won't you get bored though, Lexa? Sitting around home all day, especially in a couple of months when Cal and Tris will be in school?”  
  
The corner's of Lexa's lips turned up, her shoulders shrugging slightly. “I will still have Skylar with me to keep me entertained,” she answered. “For a couple of years, at least. And then maybe once she is in school too I will find something else.” Clarke nodded, wrapping her arms around the brunette's waist and closing the little bit of distance that was still between them.  
  
“I have to admit, I'm really loving the idea of you no longer having to walk around with a gun,” the blonde told her, that one fear that had been buried deep in her gut for so long finally beginning to unravel. For years now she had been afraid that she would be working one day and her wife would be wheeled into her OR, bleeding heavily from a gunshot wound she had taken while on the clock, and the idea of that fear melting away was one she could happily get onboard with. Lexa just grinned, shaking her head. “Of course that is what you would immediately think of,” she replied, her eyes rolling just slightly, and Clarke's grin just grew. That grin turned into a smirk, her eyes lighting up, as she pushed Lexa back, the brunette's lower back bumping lightly against the island.  
  
“You know,” she nearly purred, and the tone of her voice immediately traveled straight to the space between Lexa's legs, even as an eyebrow rose at her questioningly. “I never thought I would marry a housewife, and I _definitely_ never thought you would be one. But,” she added, eyes quickly glancing down over Lexa's front, “I do think you would look incredibly sexy in an apron. Just as long as you stay away from the oven.”  
  
Lexa had to force herself to swallow as Clarke's eyes raked over her again, her bottom lip tucking snugly between her teeth. “I think I would prefer the term 'Stay-at-Home Mom' over 'Housewife,' but if it would make you happy I could potentially see what I can do about the apron,” she replied, the effect her wife's tone had on her obvious. “Even though it is a foolish stereotype from a time where women were treated as lesser for staying at home and taking care of the children.”  
  
“I won't treat you as lesser,” Clarke promised, pressing even closer to the brunette. While the heated electricity was still there, still very much between them, her tone became more serious, more awed, as she stared up into green eyes. “You're the strongest person I know, Lexa, and have always been my hero. This just proves it even more.” The brunette stared down at her, surprised by the sincerity in the blonde's voice even though she had heard those very words from her before, and then she leaned down, hungrily capturing Clarke's lips against her own.  
  
As the two women pushed and pulled against each other, fingers getting tangled in hair and clothes being tugged aside as though they were once again two horny teenagers in love, Lexa couldn't help but think about how a day that had been pretty terrible had turned out to be pretty wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the long wait, but it was a long chapter that took more concentration than believed to actually get down in writing. Let it be known that I do not know who came up with the quote, "Fill a house with love and it becomes a home;" I just found it using Google Images and thought it fitting. No thievery intended.
> 
> Now that you have met little Tris and Skylar, what do you think? And what about Lexa's decision to become a Stay-at-Home Mom? Does that shock anyone?
> 
> It will probably be a little while before I get the next chapter out, 1) because it is likely to be another long one, and 2) because it is my plan to get some of "Unbroken"'s sequel out first. The prologue and first chapter will be out by the end of the week, so if you've been waiting for it, your wait is almost over!
> 
> Thanks all, and until next time!


	8. Chapter Eight - PTSD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two warnings: the first, as the title probably suggests, this chapter largely focuses on Lexa's time in the Marines and how that now effects her, so if you haven't read "The Note" and have just been reading this for fun, that's awesome, but you will likely be a little confused this chapter. Second, due to the fact that it's about Lexa's PTSD from her past, something we haven't seen yet, there are a few mentions of violence in this chapter, as well as a slight hint towards rape. There is no actual rape, but I wanted to give the warning anyway just in case of triggers.
> 
> Thank you all, and once again, I'm sorry for the long wait!

For years she's fine. Her injuries are great, and it takes months before she's able to so much as move her right arm again, but Lexa gets past it. She leaves the Marines, leaves her life as a Grounder and goes back home, back to her family. She and Clarke get engaged, move in together, and are married well within a year. She goes to physical therapy, and eventually her arm is working again, never quite functioning the same as it did before the attack, but she can move it so she doesn't complain. Much. Once on the mend, Lexa starts looking for a new job, a new purpose to get up in the morning aside from her beautiful wife, and she becomes a police officer, quickly moving up to detective. Life goes on, her family grows as she and Clarke decide to start looking into adoption, and before she knows it they are the proud parents of three amazing kids, each seeming to be just as stubborn as their two new mothers. Life goes on, and while she never forgets her time in the Marines, it all gets pushed to the back of her mind, seldom spoken of or even thought about. She moves on, focuses on the present and future instead of concerning herself with the past, and to her, everything is as it should be.  
  
Until one day, it isn't.

***

_One Week Later_

The shattering of their ceramic vase against the kitchen floor made Lexa close her eyes, forcing herself to draw in a slow, deep breath. When she turned around, eyes opening, she was unsurprised to find Tris staring down at it from her spot at the table, clearly barely fazed. Looking back up, she met green eyes defiantly, as if daring the woman to get mad and start yelling, something she was clearly still waiting for even after living with them for a few months. From the set of her jaw, Lexa couldn't tell whether or not the fall of the vase had been an accident or not, but it wasn't the first thing to break that morning.  
  
“Pauna, stay,” Lexa ordered, noticing the dog start to move away from where she sat at the foot of Skylar's highchair. Clearly she meant to go inspect what had made the strange noise, but at her mother's command she sat back down, head quirking to the side to give the brunette a look. A moment later and she was happy she had, as Skylar shrieked gleefully, following her sister's example and grabbing her plate of peanut butter crackers, dropping it to the side. This plate clattered to the ground, its plastic meant to withstand gravity, but as the peanut butter smeared against the floor the dog dove forward, happy to clean up after the messy toddler.  
  
Rather than give Tris any kind of reaction, Lexa simply moved over to the refrigerator where the broom and dustpan were tucked snugly between it and the counter, carrying both over to the table. Sliding Tris's chair away from the table with the girl still on it, the brunette quickly went about sweeping up the mess and making sure to get every piece of the broken vase. She turned to empty the dustpan into the trash, and almost as soon as her back was turned to the table heard another loud clatter. “Oops,” Tris called behind her, not sounding at all as though this one had been an accident, and then there was another noise, this one a bump and then a roll and a laugh from Skylar.  
  
Grip tightening along the broom handle, Lexa forced herself to take another deep breath before turning to see what had fallen this time. Tris's plate laid face down on the hardwood floor, Pauna's nose already pushing it aside so that she could get to what remained of the girl's peanut butter sandwich beneath it. Skylar's sippy cup had managed to roll all the way to the other side of the kitchen, bumping lightly against the wall before stopping. Both girls were watching her, Skylar's face turned up in a big grin, clearly just having fun, while Tris seemed to be daring her to react. All morning she had been testing the brunette, pretending not to hear her, dropping things, breaking things, and just generally trying to see if she could get a rise out of the mother. Lexa had made it this far without breaking, but she could feel her annoyance bubbling just beneath the surface, ready to erupt at any moment even as she pushed the broom back into its little nook beside the fridge.  
  
She was determined not to let that happen, determined not to let Tris push her like she was so clearly trying to do, but knew if she didn't do something soon to relieve the pressure building at the base of her skull, she would fail. She had always had a lot of patience, had always been able to keep her annoyance in check, but today a certain strawberry-blonde was doing everything she could to push her over the top. If she was going to keep that from happening, there was only one thing Lexa could do.  
  
Leaving the plate on the floor – she would pick it up later – Lexa strolled over to the sippy cup, picking it up and wiping it down thoroughly before handing it back to the toddler. Rather than step away however, she quickly unstrapped the little girl from her chair, hoisting her up to rest against her hip before moving back over to the fridge and quickly writing out a short message for Clarke on the notepad hanging on the door. The blonde and their son had gone out that morning to run a couple of errands, and in the event they got back before Lexa and the girls did, she didn't want her to worry. Finishing the note, she turned again, meeting Tris's confused stare, and nodded to her.  
  
“Come on,” she simply said, shifting the toddler against her side. Glancing down at the dog clearly waiting for something else to be dropped, she added, “You too, Pauna. Come.” The dog followed her much more willingly as she led the way out of the kitchen and into the hallway, the girl dragging her feet behind her.  
  
“Where are we going?” Tris wanted to know, already sounding bored and annoyed, but Lexa didn't let her tone get to her anymore than she'd allowed her actions to. She walked quickly to the front door, moving straight to the stroller already waiting there for Skylar, and transferred the toddler into it, securely strapping her in. As soon as her arms were toddler-free, she grabbed Pauna's leash and harness hanging off one of the pegs along the wall, the dog's stubby tail immediately wagging crazily as she realized what was happening.  
  
“We're going for a run,” Lexa answered, not looking over to the glaring girl as she knelt down, drawing Pauna to her. The dog stood as still as she could in her excitement, letting the mother lift her paws and guide her into the harness until it was strapped securely around her. The moment she felt it resting along her back and chest, the big animal stood back up, tongue hanging partially out the side of her mouth in her excitement, clearly thrilled to be going out.  
  
“Why?” Tris asked, a slight whine to her voice, arms crossing over her chest. Clearly she didn't share in the dog's excitement.  
  
“Because you and I both have energy we need to get out,” the brunette replied, slipping her running shoes on before standing back up. “And it would be better if we get it out before the party tonight.”  
  
“I don't wanna go to the stupid party,” Tris complained, gritting her teeth. “And I don't wanna go on a stupid run.”  
  
“I'm sorry you feel that way,” Lexa told her, though Tris didn't think she sounded sorry at all. “Both things will be happening, however.” The girl stood rooted where she was, arms crossed stubbornly over her chest, and the brunette simply studied her for a second before shrugging. Turning away so she could open the door, she called nonchalantly over her shoulder, “I can understand why you wouldn't want to run with me. I have been doing it for a long time, so you would have a hard time keeping up. Maybe instead of a run we will just go for a nice walk.”  
  
The subtle challenge had the desired effect: Tris's grip on her arms tightened and then she huffed, taking a step forward and grabbing her shoes before yanking them on her feet. “I can run,” she growled, shooting a little glare up at the waiting woman. “And I can beat you, too.”  
  
“We will see,” Lexa simply said, lifting an eyebrow, only annoying the little girl more. With Tris's shoes now on her feet, the mother led the way out of the house, stroller going first with dog beside it and the young girl following behind. She closed the door behind her and then carried the stroller down the couple of front steps, Skylar happy and babbling away with Pauna's tail still wagging crazily beside them. The small group made their way across the front lawn and then they were on the sidewalk, gate shut behind them. “Stay out of the road,” Lexa warned, giving Tris a warning look. The girl rolled her eyes, telling her, “Duh,” and Lexa felt the corner of her mouth twitch. Just being outside in the fresh air was already making her feel better, the heat of the summer day pounding down on them now that they were out of the air-conditioned house. She could feel the stress beginning to leak out of her, her body waking up as it realized what they were about to do, and let out an easy breath. “Alright then,” she said, “Let's go.”  
  
With the stroller, five-year old and dog, Lexa couldn't run the way her muscles yearned to. Her body wanted her to go all out, to push itself to the limit as she so often did when running, but now she barely did more than a light jog. Pauna trotted along beside her, clearly not having any problem with the slower pace than what she was used to, just happy to be outside and moving. In her stroller, Skylar's eyes scanned everything they went by, trying to take it all in and clearly enjoying the ride, if her laughter and babbling were anything to go by. On Lexa's other side however Tris ran, her little legs pumping and arms swinging at her side, glaring ahead of her. As they continued to run and as her breathing started to get harder, that little glare began to slowly melt away, another expression entirely taking its place. The stubbornness was still there, and Lexa could still see anger buried in stormy blue eyes, but along with it came almost a determined calm. The look was one Lexa recognized in feeling if not in sight, a similar litany of emotions falling over her whenever she ran.  
  
They circled the block, neither of them talking as they ran, Lexa keeping a sharp eye on the little girl. Whenever her breathing got to be too heavy, the mother would slow down, almost unnoticeably, and the girl would follow, until they were moving at barely more than a walk. As soon as her breathing was once again under control, it was Tris who would start running again, picking up the pace of the entire group, and Lexa felt herself trying to hold back her smile as she followed. She hadn't expected the running to work out this well, had really only done it to keep her own emotions in check, but now watching Tris, she decided that they would have to do this more often. The exercise would hopefully help to get out some of the girl's energy, and double as a way to release some of her pent up frustration. All in all, it may just be exactly what she needed.  
  
People had already begun to gather at many of the houses they ran past. Lexa didn't think anything of it except to nod when she made eye contact with someone in their front yard, otherwise just focusing on her own group and the road beside her. Children laughed, adults yelled around or over them, and the general holiday mayhem took place on countless lawns as friends and families gathered together, pulling out the grill and barbeque. Flags waved, and flashes of red white and blue constantly pulled at the corners of her vision, but Lexa ignored it all.  
  
Suddenly she heard a cacophony of pops, the rapid-fire _pop pop pop_ all stemming from one lawn just to their right, and she didn't think, only reacted. Stomach lurching and heart jumping to her throat, she reached out and yanked Tris to her side, body immediately shielding the girl's from the unknown danger. Her muscles all tensed, body bracing itself for the return fire she fully expected to come, mind whirling as she tried of think of what to do, how to keep her people safe. For once her mind remained completely blank, only the popping sounds echoing over and over in her head, and suddenly it was hard to breathe as panic began to flood her system. Her grip on the little body in her arms tightened, refusing to let go, every muscle tense as she waited for more shots to ring out around them.  
  
“What're you doing?”  
  
Tris's voice broke through the panic, and then she could breathe again, suddenly remembering where she was. The noises hadn't been gunshot, there were no enemies hiding just out of sight, and she wasn't with her unit. Instead she was standing on the sidewalk, stroller and dog next to her and daughter still held tightly against her, the little girl giving her a strange look as the group in the yard beside them lit another round of firecrackers.  
  
“I am...” Lexa began, trying to explain it all away, and then just shook her head. “Nothing,” she said, “I'm doing nothing.” Letting go of the little girl, she noticed that Tris was still looking at her as though she had grown two heads, but didn't acknowledge it. “Come on, we should be getting back home. We still have to get ready to go to your grandparents'.”  
  
“They're not _my_ grandparents,” Tris argued, the debate that had been going back and forth between them for weeks now clearly enough to get her to forget at least momentarily about the woman's strange behavior, and for the first time Lexa was actually glad to be having this discussion again.  
  
“I'm sorry,” she replied, giving a little nod. “We need to still get ready to go to Clarke's parents' house.” The girl let out a big sigh, still clearly not thrilled about the evening plans, but followed without anymore arguing as Lexa led the way back to the house.  
  
As they began running again, Lexa tried not to think about what had just happened. She pushed the firecrackers and the reaction they had caused to the back of her mind, hopefully to be forgotten. Her Grounder days, and all of the memories surrounding them, were in the past, and that's where she wanted them to stay. 

***

“I still can't believe it,” Raven exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air and managing not to spill any of her beer. With her free hand, she pointed at Lexa. “You're telling us that _you_ , Lexa, are quitting your job, to be a stay-at-home mom? Seriously? _You_?!”  
  
As Lexa simply nodded, beside her Clarke rolled her eyes, leaning into her a little more. “Seriously Raven, yes, that's what happening. After what happened at their daycare we needed to figure something else out, and this is what we decided. What about that is so hard to believe?”  
  
“Are you kidding me?” the mechanic asked, quirking an eyebrow at her. Her free hand waved around in the air, as though she were trying to make her thoughts materialize in front of her. “Just... _everything_. We're talking about Lexa, the woman who panicked every day for months when she didn't know what she wanted to do after senior year.”  
  
“High school was a long time ago,” Lexa reminded her, shrugging the shoulder that didn't have her wife leaning against it. “I do not concern myself so much with those kinds of worries anymore.” On her other side Roan snorted, the sound not at all muffled by the beer he was busy taking a drink from, and she shot him a small glare. “I don't,” she insisted, and he gave another little snort, the others sitting in the half circle all grinning. She could even see Clarke grinning out of the corner of her eye, clearly not believing her anymore than the rest of them did, and Lexa felt herself lift her chin, even as she did give in just a little. “Alright, so perhaps doing something important still matters to me, but there is nothing more important than my children. If this will help them to feel as though Clarke and I love them and will never give up on them, then I am happy to do it.” She felt her wife press a quick kiss against her cheek, and while none of what she had said was necessarily meant to cause a reaction from the blonde, she happily accepted it.  
  
Her focus on her wife and the lips pressed against her cheek broke when Roan's foot nudged against her calf, pulling her attention back over to him. Her partner's mouth was pulled up in a wide grin, head already shaking. “I told you,” he insisted, obviously pleased with himself. “I told you before your girls even came into the picture that they were going to have you wrapped around their fingers. I called it. And because I was right I even decided not to be mad at you for leaving me.” Before Lexa could say anything, Clarke looked around her, nodding at him.  
  
“Roan, just because Lexa's leaving the force doesn't mean I don't still expect to see you. You know you're always welcome at our house. You're family now,” she informed him, flashing him a smile, one which he returned. Lexa rolled her eyes, still wondering how this strange relationship between her partner and wife had even started, while Octavia tore her focus off of the kids all running around the lawn to tell him with a grin, “And once you're part of this family, there's no way to get out of it. So don't even try to fight it.” Rather than bother to try, Roan just tipped his beer to her, returning the grin.  
  
Delighted shrieks pulled everyone's attention away from the conversation, and then they were all smiling as they watched Jake and Bellamy playing tag with Calvin, Emma, Tris and Jonas. It had taken awhile for anyone to convince Tris to play, but after Jonas just suddenly tagged her at one point, loudly declaring, “You're it!” for everyone to hear, she hadn't been able to hold herself back. Now Lexa watched, overjoyed as the young girl ran around, grinning and laughing with the rest of the kids. Up on the deck Abby had Skylar, the toddler perfectly content with her grandmother, only every now and then needing to look around to make sure her sister or one of her mothers were within eyesight. It was their first annual Fourth of July party with Tris and Skylar, and so far everything actually seemed to be going well.  
  
Movement on the deck caused Lexa to look away from the screaming children, but when she saw who it was her smile only grew. Patting Clarke's arm she stood up, feeling her wife follow her gaze, and then she made her way across the yard and up the deck. Her target nodded when he saw her, the corners of his lips pulling up in a small smile beneath a bushy beard, and politely cut himself off from the conversation he'd been having with her father. Without even meaning to Lexa felt herself stand taller as Ryder turned to her, but didn't try to hide her smile.  
  
“Ryder,” she greeted him, holding out her arm. “I am glad you were able to make it.”  
  
“Heda,” the big man replied, the title she hardly ever heard anymore making her spine straighten even further. He took her arm, fingers curling around the crook of her elbow, and she returned the hold. “I wouldn't have missed it. Thank you for inviting me.”  
  
Before either could say anything else, they heard a little shout, and Lexa turned around to find Abby just behind her, Skylar still in her arms but now reaching out to her. “I think somebody wants her Mama,” Abby said with a smile, holding the toddler out. “I should be getting dinner ready anyway.” Lexa accepted the little girl, flashing the toddler a smile, before looking up at her mother-in-law. “Is there anything that I can do to help, Abby?” The hostess just shook her head. “No Lexa, you stay here with your daughter. I'll get my husband to come help.” Green eyes glanced down at the lawn, finding the aforementioned man currently being chased by both Jonas and Tris, all three laughing as they ran. She wasn't sure what exactly tag had devolved into, but told the older woman, “Good luck.” Abby let out a small laugh, nodding, and then bounded down the stairs to try to chase down her husband without getting sucked into the game herself.  
  
Turning back around, Lexa found Ryder looking down at Skylar, expression soft as he took in his Heda holding the toddler.  
  
“So this is one of your daughters?” he asked, and she nodded. Shifting Skylar slightly to be more easily seen, she told him, “This is Skylar.” Lightly nudging the little girl with her nose, she said, “And Skylar, this is my friend Ryder. Can you say hi?” Unsurprisingly, she didn't say anything, instead just stared up at the large man before shrinking back against her mother shyly. Lexa's arms tightened around her, holding her close.  
  
“She is a beautiful little girl, Heda,” the ex-Grounder informed her, still smiling at the toddler. Lexa nodded, a silent thank you, and then gestured over to a couple of empty chairs sitting at one end of the deck before leading the way over to them. Settling into one of the chairs, she shifted Skylar on her lap, the little girl now perfectly content to try to watch everything going on around her while letting out a steady stream of babbles every now and then.  
  
“How have you been, Ryder?” Lexa asked, looking back over at the first person in her unit to accept her. “How is the center?”  
  
“So far so good,” he answered with a shrug. “We have more people coming in than ever before, but we're making it work.” After leaving the Marines and losing his leg, Ryder had needed to go through extensive physical therapy, all of which he'd done through Trikru VA Center, a veteran's affairs clinic about an hour away from them. Even after he finished with physical therapy he'd kept going back, so often that soon the person running it had offered him a job there. Lexa knew the job barely paid anything, but just seeing him talk about it proved how much it meant to him. The center had become a major part of his life, some strange blend of his Marine life and civilian life that she never would have been able to predict, but he was clearly happy, and that's all she wanted for him.  
  
“Good,” she said, nodding. “I am glad that it's going well.” Ryder returned her nod, looking down briefly at the beer that had been pressed into his hand almost as soon as he'd walked through the door, and took a long swig of it.  
  
“You could come in some time, if you wanted,” he told her, bringing his beer bottle back down, and caught her raising her eyebrows out of the corner of his eyes. He barely looked at her, just glancing up briefly, his attention pulled to the toddler babbling in her lap. He couldn't help his smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he watched her. “The men and women who come in have heard stories about you, and would be very interested in meeting Heda, the leader of the Grounder unit.”  
  
“You may still call me by the title, but I am no longer Heda, Ryder,” she replied easily, leaning back in her chair. For a second she glanced up, seeing the sun bleeding into the sky as it slowly lowered, before her attention pulled back to Skylar wiggling in her lap. Smiling softly at the little girl, she added, “My Marine days are behind me; I am a civilian now, and that's all I want to be.”  
  
“You are always Heda, Heda,” Ryder informed her, giving her a look before he shrugged. “But I understand.” He looked like he was about to say more when he noticed someone climbing up the stairs of the deck, and he quickly pushed himself up. “Wanheda,” he greeted, giving Clarke a smile and nod, holding out his arm to her.  
  
The blonde bypassed the arm and pulled him into a hug, surprising the large man.  
  
“Ryder!” she exclaimed, grinning up at him as she took a step back. “I'm so glad you came! We've missed you.”  
  
“I've missed you as well,” he replied before gesturing towards the little girl now laughing in Lexa's lap. “Congratulations on the new additions to your family.” Clarke's smile softened as she looked down at the toddler, Skylar grinning up at her. “Thank you,” she told him, reaching out and plucking the youngest of their children from her wife's lap as the little red-head reached up to her. “We're just happy they're with us now.” Looking back at Lexa, she nodded back towards the lawn. “But speaking of our children, do you think you could help me wrangle them up? I think they've decided to hold my parents hostage.” Glancing back down, Lexa couldn't fight her grin: at some point Bellamy had managed to duck out of the game that had been tag, and now all four of the children seemed to be chasing Jake and Abby, the two grandparents laughing just as hard as any of the kids. Even as she watched, Olivia and Andy managed to wriggle away from Anya who had been trying to read them a story, and ran to join in the fun.  
  
“Yes, I think we'd better go try to save them,” she agreed, watching as Jonas somehow managed to jump onto Jake's back. Looking back at Ryder, she said, “We will talk more later?”  
  
“Of course, Heda,” he told her, nodding. “Now go get your children. After the Grounders, rounding up this lot shouldn't be too difficult for you.” She shot him a grin, and then made her way down the stairs, Clarke right behind her.  
  
It was not, it turned out, exactly easy to convince the children to stop chasing the grandparents, and when they did it was only because they began chasing the two mothers instead. Clarke and Lexa ran around, Skylar shrieking with laughter in the blonde's arms, as six children chased after them, and soon they were pulling others in the game along with them. The yard became a mess of people running around, everyone shouting and laughing, and Lexa couldn't remember the last time she'd had more fun. The fun was finally interrupted with Jake loudly announcing that dinner was ready, and everyone immediately turned in their tracks, kids rushing to grab plates with burgers and hot dogs and chips, the adults only slightly calmer behind them. Even with everyone stuffing their faces, talk and laughter still filled the yard, the approaching dark of night doing nothing to quiet the mood. If anything the darkness only seemed to make the almost-giddiness increase, the anticipation for the major event of the evening building with every minute that went by. As the tables were cleaned up, Lexa, Bellamy and Octavia brought out the sparklers, the kids all grinning excitedly as sparks of bright colors erupted from each as they were lit. Under the adults' careful supervision, the four oldest children twirled them around, creating patterns in the air that disappeared in the blink of an eye while the twins pouted on the sidelines. Skylar just watched from her grandmother's arms, mesmerized, as her sister drew design after design into the air.  
  
Finally the moment everyone had been waiting for came, and the entire family huddled on the lawn, everyone looking up into the sky, waiting for that first burst of light. Lexa stood between Clarke and Roan, everyone else spread out around her, and had to shake her head as Octavia bounced up and down beside Lincoln, clearly just as excited for the fireworks show as her children were. Standing in front of her Calvin already had his hands over his ears, remembering how loud it had been last year, and she just smiled down at him, squeezing his shoulder lightly. Tris stood in front of Clarke, trying to look bored, but Lexa could see her tilt her head every now and then, clearly scanning the sky for the first sign that the show was starting.  
  
A sharp whistle suddenly pierced the night, the obvious sound of an object speeding through the air, and they all watched as brilliant gold erupted like a cloud above them. Along with it, almost too close to measure came an incredible boom, the crack nearly shaking the air around them. Three immediate whistles sounded right after it, and then a shower of violet shone around the fizzling gold, smaller booms breaking out with each burst of color. Around her, people ooohed and aaahed, but suddenly with no warning at all Lexa couldn't breathe.  
  
_The acidic taste of fear and guilt burned the back of her throat, but Lexa forced herself to ignore it. Guns fired out all around her, and all she could do was think a silent prayer for her people in the trees and keep going. Her gun weighed heavily in her arms, the strap it hung from digging into her shoulder, but she could do nothing but shift it to the next target as Reapers ran around below her, clearly desperate. In her scope she saw a few tumbling out of their tents, all half dressed, pulling at shirts and pants, their terror as obvious as their surprise. Even as they fumbled for weapons she watched them go down, bullets sprouting through their foreheads, entering and exiting their chests, the shock registering along their faces a half an instant before the pain could. She couldn't take the time to watch them go down, barely looked at them for more than a few seconds before realizing some of her people had them taken care of, but every detail was etched into her memory. Shifting with her gun, she peered through her scope to find a new target, looking for the biggest threat to her people, and began firing at those managing to lift their weapons. The trigger was cold beneath her finger, but she didn't feel it. She could do nothing but aim and fire, focus on nothing but her work, the incredible sound of gunfire managing to drown out everything else, even the hard pounding of her heart._  
  
Flashes of color sprouted against the black sky, but Lexa couldn't see them. Instead other flashes crossed her vision, memories from the guiltiest day of her life. She saw the Reapers falling down beneath her, their bodies falling on top of each other, great rivers of black coating the dirt as a half-moon shone above them, impervious to the terrors taking place below. Her breathing quickened, heart racing in her chest as terror pulsed through her. She tried to swallow but couldn't, tried to tear her gaze from the sky but couldn't, tried to think of anything else other than the night she had led a mass murder, but couldn't.  
  
A wailing cry finally managed to break through her stupor, and finally she was able to take a sharp breath. Clarke had already turned towards her mother, reaching out for the screaming toddler, but Lexa cut between them. “I've got her,” she called, voice raised to be heard over the fireworks still cracking and booming around them, somehow managing to sound calm. Her wife simply flashed her a smile, nodding, and then rested one arm over Calvin's shoulder, the boy watching the show with the heels of his hands still pressed against his ears, and the other over Tris's shoulder, the girl watching the show in fascination, mouth slightly hung open. Lexa took their youngest child from Abby, forcing a smile as she did so, and then turned around, quickly making her way through the crowd and back up the steps of the deck. Grabbing the handle to the glass door, she quickly slid it open, stepping into the kitchen and closing it behind her.  
  
Inside, the fireworks were still very much audible, but at least dimmed, and Lexa began to gently bounce Skylar in her arms, trying to calm the crying girl down. Skylar wailed, still terrified of the noises outside, and a part of Lexa wanted to cry as well. Her heart still pounded against her chest, bile rising up the back of her throat so that she had to force herself to swallow a few times to keep it down. Her hands shook, the tremble hidden with the way she held her daughter, but she could feel the same tremble running through the rest of her body. The images the fireworks had brought back to life still felt seared into her mind's eye, details she hadn't thought about for years as clear now as though it had all just happened yesterday. Another great _boom_ pounded the house, and it took every ounce of control Lexa had not to be sick.  
  
“It's okay,” she whispered, still bouncing Skylar. The words were meant to calm them both, but she wasn't sure either of them believed them. “It's okay, Skylar. I have you. Mama has you. You're safe.”  
  
Moving into the living room, Lexa had to repeat the words many times as she paced the room before the screaming toddler finally began to settle down. Little hands gripped her shirt, cheeks wet with tears pressed against her neck, but finally Skylar stopped crying. She still whimpered every now and then, more so when an especially loud boom would shake the house, but the wailing ceased. Still Lexa whispered, barely even paying attention to what she said, her body moving on its own as she paced the room, as though she were on autopilot.  
  
“Heda?” she heard, and her heart doubled its speed in her chest, arms tightening around Skylar, but before she turned around she forced her expression into one of calm. She allowed her body to continue pacing, only looking towards him when she naturally turned back in his direction. “Yes, Ryder?” She could feel him studying her, saw the understanding flash across his eyes briefly, but gave no indication of such.  
  
“Are you alright?” he finally asked quietly, still watching her as she paced the room, moving faster than he thought she realized. He could see what was happening as clearly as if she had broken down on the floor in sobs, but knew her well enough to know she would never allow that to happen.  
  
“I am fine,” she simply answered, turning sharply as she came up to one of the walls and beginning her journey back across the room. “You should be out watching the fireworks with the others. I am simply consoling my daughter.”  
  
“Your daughter is asleep,” he informed her, nodding to the toddler, and when Lexa glanced down she realized he was right. At some point during her pacing and whispers Skylar had fallen asleep, now curled up on her chest, and the one-time Lieutenant hadn't noticed. She pretended not to be surprised, shrugging the shoulder she wasn't curled against. “I know, and this helps her to sleep.”  
  
Ryder studied her for a moment, trying to decide the best way to approach this. He had noticed the shift outside, noticed the way she had stiffened at that first boom. Though he was sure no one else had seen, he'd noticed the look flash in her eye, had seen it before in dozens of soldiers, had even seen it staring back at him at times when he looked in the mirror. He'd watched as she immediately volunteered to take Skylar away almost the moment she had begun crying, putting as much distance between herself and the fireworks as she could; as much distance between herself and her family as she could. He knew what was happening inside her head, and knew she needed to admit it. Finally he decided the best way to do something was to just say it.  
  
“You need to talk to someone about this, Heda,” he told her, his voice surprisingly gentle. Her back straightened, almost imperceptibly, and jaw clenched, but he kept going. “What you just experienced is serious; you can't just ignore it. You need to talk with someone and let it out.” Taking a step forward, he offered, “Come to the center sometime; we have counseling sessions every week where soldiers can come together and talk about what we went through. It helps.”  
  
“I am fine, Ryder,” she replied, an edge to her tone. He opened his mouth to say more, but she cut him off. “Enough,” she ordered, and as though no time had gone by, he immediately straightened at the tone of her voice. “I have nothing to talk about. As I said before, my Marine days are in my past, and that is where they will stay. I do not need your help; I am fine.” He wanted to argue, wanted to point out that she clearly wasn't otherwise she wouldn't have needed to repeat it three times, but years of following her and never questioning her fought against the desire. Before he could entirely push past old habits, they heard the kitchen door slide open, and voices began filling the room.  
  
“That was so cool!” Jonas exclaimed, the little boy running into the living room with his fists up in the air. He jumped up on the couch, face bright with excitement, and Lexa watched as Tris followed him, just as excited.  
  
“What about the big green one that had all those little silver and gold ones around it?” she wanted to know, clearly continuing a conversation they had started outside. “That was my favorite!”  
  
“Not mine,” Jonas declared, shaking his head. “My favorite was the really big red one at the end that made that _sszzt_ sound!”  
  
“Jonas, you know you're not supposed to stand on the couch,” Lincoln reminded him, leading the adults into the room. The boy grinned guiltily and then plopped himself down, Tris actually letting out a laugh beside him.  
  
“Now that's something we don't hear very often,” Clarke murmured, eyes bright as she moved over towards Lexa. Gaze trailing down to the sleeping toddler, her expression softened. “Poor little girl. I guess she's not a fan of fireworks yet.” Looking back up, Lexa saw something flash across the blonde's face, her brow pulling down just slightly. “Is everything okay Lexa?”  
  
“Yes,” Lexa lied, trying to convince herself it wasn't in fact a lie. “I am just tired. I think I'm ready to get to bed as well. What about you?” Clarke nodded, smiling again, clearly buying the story.  
  
“Mm, bed sounds like a fantastic idea,” she agreed, and Lexa returned her smile with a small one of her own. Glancing over to Tris on the couch and Calvin now not much further away, she told them, “Guys, say good-bye to everyone, please. It's time to go home.” Both kids groaned but did as they were told, even Tris clearly in too good a mood to argue. Lexa also said a quick round of good-byes, tilting her chin up as she did so with Ryder, and then ushered them out towards the car.  
  
Clarke's good-byes took a little longer, and when she got to the ex-Marine her smile was just as bright as it had been when he'd got there. “Good-bye for now, Ryder,” she told him, pulling him in for another hug. “We'll need to get together again soon, yeah?”  
  
“Soon, yes,” he agreed, returning her hug, and then when she leaned back to pull away he didn't let go. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow in confusion, and saw him studying her, worry pulling at his features. “Ryder?”  
  
“If you need anything, please call me,” he said, eyes boring into her, and she frowned, unsure where this was coming from. “You or Heda, if either of you ever need anything, just call. I owe her my life; I will do everything I can to help either of you.”  
  
“I... Okay,” she murmured, not sure what else to say. “Okay Ryder, I'll call you if we need anything.” He nodded once, as though in confirmation, and then finally let go. “Have a good night, Wanheda,” he told her. He hesitated, then added, “Keep an eye on Heda. Please.” Still confused, she forced a grin, telling him, “I always do.” At that he smiled, the look small but obvious. “Good,” he just said, “Then she will stay out of trouble, I'm sure.”  
  
“Of course,” Clarke joked, glad that whatever seriousness had just transpired seemed to have ended. “We're both known for staying out of trouble.” Raven, who happened to be walking by just then and caught the end of the conversation, let out a loud laugh.  
  
“Ha!” she said, “You two staying out of trouble? I'll believe it when I see it.” Clarke rolled her eyes before lightly elbowing her friend in the side. “You've gotten me into far more trouble than Lexa ever has,” she reminded her, catching Ryder's grin grow out of the corner of her eye. Raven threw her arm over the blonde's shoulder, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek before telling her, “And you've loved every minute of it!”  
  
“Whatever you say, Raven,” Clarke replied before shrugging out of the other woman's hold. “But now I have to go before my wife and kids leave without me. See ya later!”  
  
“Later,” the mechanic called as she made her way across the room, the many other people standing around giving her their own farewells. She returned them all with a smile and wave, and then quickly headed out, finding all three kids already buckled up and ready to go, Lexa behind the wheel and waiting. As she opened the door and slid into the passenger's seat, she returned the small smile her wife gave her, settling into the car, but in the back of her mind Ryder's words played, a nagging feeling she couldn't yet name tugging at her gut. As Lexa reached out and took her hand, wrapping their fingers together before pulling out of the driveway, that nagging feeling lessened, and she let herself fall into this moment of just them. If she needed to, she could worry about the words at another time, a time when things didn't feel as right as they did at this moment. 

***

_Four Weeks Later_

Three weeks into being a stay-at-home mom, and Lexa already had a system. The system was far from fool-proof, but it was a system none-the-less. If it was a morning when Clarke didn't have to go in to work until at least seven, she would get up early, get Pauna, and go for a run while her wife was still at home. If it was one of Clarke's early morning shifts, she would forego the run, often looking wistfully out the window as she tried to ignore Pauna's whining beside her. Neither of them particularly loved these mornings, but one of them was better at hiding it than the other. All three kids were usually up by seven, and Clarke had whispered to her more than once how much she looked forward to the teenage days when they would all sleep in until at least nine, giving their mothers a few hours to themselves. Lexa always grinned, shaking her head at her wife, and then one or the both of them would be distracted by at least one of their children. When Clarke was there for the mornings, breakfast usually consisted of pancakes or omelets, waffles and bacon. Twice already Lexa had tried doing the same when the blonde wasn't there to make breakfast, but the looks she got from Cal and Tris when she put the charred bacon and half-cooked or over-cooked pancakes in front of them now had her sticking to cereal more often than not. She'd eaten them, managing to keep a straight face as she did so, but neither of the kids were able to pretend quite as well as she could, Tris not even trying to act like the food looked edible. She swore that at some point she would get this cooking thing down, but so far had nothing to show even in the way of progress.  
  
The kids would play during the morning, with each other or alone, and although she still refused to call the place home or those in it family, Lexa could see Tris getting more comfortable there every day, with Calvin if not with either of the mothers. Progress, she thought, little by little; every step was one of progress. Lexa set aside a little time every morning and afternoon for lessons, trying to get Tris prepared for kindergarten in the fall and help get Skylar to where she should be developmentally, time that Skylar seemed to love and Tris clearly hated. Sometimes Calvin joined them, other times he made himself scarce so as not to listen to Tris's grumbling, but every time Lexa simply waited patiently, allowing the girl her complaints, and then gently steered her back into her work.  
  
After the morning study sessions was always Tris's favorite time: Lexa would gather all three children together as well as the dog and they would go for a run. Calvin would roll his eyes sometimes or do a little grumbling himself, but Skylar would grin in her stroller and Tris would get her game face on, that same expression that Lexa knew so well after wearing it for years. She knew Tris's goal was always to out-run her, and some days she made it easier for the girl than others. They would run around the block, and Lexa would judge off of those with her how much more to do after. Sometimes Calvin spent parts of the day at friends' houses, and when that happened they usually ran longer, Tris much happier about the longer runs than he ever was. After the run, Lexa would fix lunch for everyone, usually sandwiches or chicken nuggets, and Tris would watch her watch them in the oven so she didn't burn them. The first batch or two had come out as inedible, but this at least she was getting a knack for.  
  
Nap time followed lunch, Tris always following Lexa into her room as she moved to put Skylar down, and she would stay there as her sister slept, playing quietly with some toys or even falling asleep herself sometimes. Cal always spent the time in his art corner, getting out whatever he needed to get out that day or simply creating art, whichever it happened to be. While the kids all relaxed, Lexa took the time to as well, sometimes getting laundry or dishes done, other times simply grabbing a book and laying on the couch, listening as Calvin's paper crinkled in the corner.  
  
Nap time never lasted more than two hours, and then Skylar would be back up and all three of the children would be playing, more often than not on their own but sometimes together. When the weather was nice, she took them outside, letting them play in the yard while she watched, sometimes playing with them and other times sitting back and just observing. Every now and then Lincoln or Octavia brought Emma and Jonas over for the afternoon and all four kids would play while the adults hung back and watched, some great game taking place in front of them that only made them grin as they looked on.  
  
Some days Clarke's shifts at the hospital would end in the early afternoon, and she'd come home, smiling as she walked into a house full of people. When she could, she would go into the kitchen and whip up something delicious for dinner, and it surprised both mothers the first time Tris walked in and just started helping, ignoring their looks at each other over her head. The little girl was comfortable in the kitchen, more comfortable than Lexa was, and she and Clarke would work together to prepare the meal. It hurt the mothers a little, thinking about how she was only so comfortable in the kitchen because she'd often been forced to cook for herself in her old life while her mother was gone or incapacitated, but neither of them said anything about it. Instead Clarke simply taught her more, teaching her to cook the same way her own mother had taught her, albeit when she had been older, and it made the blonde feel all warm and fuzzy inside thinking about how she was passing on this family tradition so seamlessly. In the kitchen, Tris didn't complain about this not being her home or these people not being her family; she focused only on the food, cracking eggs or stirring batter, only rolling her eyes when Clarke reminded her again and again that no, she wasn't allowed to use the oven or stove yet, that was the blonde's job.  
  
After dinner, whether it was a big meal made by Clarke and Tris or a simple one made by Lexa, everyone would get together in the living room and relax for a little while. Sometimes they had movie night, letting the two older kids argue over the movie before one of the mothers stepped in and made the final decision, and other times the three kids would just grab a few toys and play while the mothers – or mother, if it was a day where Clarke had to work the late shift – would simply sit back and relax, working on their own things while glancing up at the kids every now and then, small smiles pulling at their lips as they did so. Story time followed, and they would all pile together on the couch or the mothers' bed, and one of the women would read to them wherever they had left off the night before in whatever book they were working on. Tris often got bored, but the boredom worked to tire her out, enough that when whoever was reading finally put the book down, every now and then they'd do so to find the young girl already asleep. If both mothers were there one would hoist her up while the other got Skylar, the toddler usually asleep as well, and then would carry them up to their room, Calvin trailing along behind them to his own. When it was only Lexa, she would lift both daughters, managing to balance the toddler on one hip and five-year old on the other. Each of the three children got tucked into bed and a round of good nights and kisses to their foreheads, before the mother or mothers turned off the lights and left them to their dreams. A couple of hours later and they too would head to bed, ready to start everything all over again in the morning.  
  
On this particular day while Skylar slept and Tris sat in their room with her, quietly playing with a few dolls, Lexa found herself in the basement, piling armful after armful of laundry into the dryer, a clean load already sitting in the basket at her feet. How five people managed to create so much laundry she didn't understand, and found herself letting out a deep sigh as she finally shut the door to the dryer, immediately pressing the start button and watching the clothes begin to spin around haphazardly. Letting out a small groan, she bent over, grabbing the laundry basket by its handles, and then began making her way over to the side of the room and up the stairs. The steps were steep, and she had to balance the laundry basket against her hip to see around it to make sure she didn't mis-judge the distance between them. Shifting the basket slightly as she reached the door at the top, she nudged it open with her shoulder, wondering briefly why she and Clarke had chosen the house with the laundry hook up in the basement. She really, really hated these stairs.  
  
Stepping out into the hallway, she pushed the door shut again behind her, using her butt to press it securely closed. The last thing she needed was for any of her three children to decide the basement seemed like a fun place to explore, especially Skylar. She almost shuddered at the idea of the toddler anywhere near those stairs, and pressed back against the door a little harder, making sure it had clicked shut.  
  
For a second Lexa stood in the hallway, head tilting slightly so she could listen up the stairs, but heard no obvious noise to indicate Skylar had woken up from her nap or that Tris had decided to abandon their room, so she turned towards the kitchen. As she placed the laundry basket on one of the chairs around the dining room table, she glanced into the living room, finding Calvin still in his corner, face scrunched up slightly as he worked on his newest piece. Lexa smiled, unable to stop herself, and then turned back to the laundry basket. Grabbing the first shirt she saw, she started in on the folding, beginning to make small piles of everyone's clothes on the table in front of her. She worked until the basket was almost half empty, and then looked up at the clock on the wall, realizing what time it was.  
  
“Hey bud, Octavia's going to be here any minute,” she called into the living room, breaking her son's concentration. He and Emma were having a play date, one that he'd yet to get ready for. “Why don't you go get out of your paint clothes and get ready?”  
  
From her spot by the table, she saw him look up from his painting and then at everything around him, frowning. For some reason he'd been working off of two different palettes, colors smeared along both, and multiple pieces of paper were strewn around his stool, streaks of paint along their surface, all clearly rejects. She'd heard him grumbling before she went to change over the laundry, and knew he'd been having a hard time getting whatever was in his head out on paper this afternoon. When he looked up at her, frowning and still clearly not entirely happy with his day's work, she couldn't help one corner of her mouth from pulling up in a smile. He had paint along one cheek and a long swipe across his forehead, something she imagined had transferred from one of his hands.  
  
“Go on,” she said, nodding towards the stairs. “Go get ready, and I'll clean up for you.” He grinned, face suddenly brightening, and jumped up from his stool, leaving both palettes behind.  
  
“Thanks Mama!” he exclaimed, giving her another smile, and then raced by her, and she listened to his feet pound against the floor as he ran through the kitchen and into the hallway.  
  
“Hey, no running in the house!” she called after him, even as she heard his pounding footsteps against the stairs, not slowing down for a second. She shook her head, still grinning, and then tossed the pair of underwear she'd just grabbed from the basket of laundry back in it, making her way into the living room.  
  
Rather than immediately start cleaning, Lexa allowed herself a second to look at the art in front of her, first at the pieces strewn on the large sheet of plastic along the floor, and then at the paper still sitting against the easel. The first few seemed to be a mess of colors, an entire rainbow scrambling along their surfaces, what looked to Lexa like chaos sprouting across them. The last one, the only one Calvin had seemed to be at all happy with, was mostly a mess of cool colors, purple and green with a little blue, and streaks of black making its way across them every now and then. It all meant nothing to Lexa, but she knew it meant something to Cal, and she knew that Clarke would have an idea what when she saw them, so she set them all aside for now to dry, lying them on the table they'd set up for him by the wall. She treated each one carefully, even the rejects, knowing that even if he hated them, each piece was a part of Calvin, an indication of how he was feeling and his thoughts. As soon as they were all taken care of, she moved back over to the stool, grabbing the brush he'd dropped and the two palettes for cleaning, carrying all three items back into the kitchen to drop in the sink.  
  
She hadn't been careful. Grabbing one palette, she felt cool paint smear against the heel of her hand, and just let out a little sigh as she walked from one room to the other. Dropping them all into the sink, her fingers curled down, sliding across the wet paint and then pulling it back up her palm with them, and she just smiled slightly as she felt the paint spread. There was a strange kind of satisfaction in the feeling, and for a moment she understood completely why her wife and son enjoyed getting lost in their art, in feeling the cool paint sticking to their fingertips and wiping against their cheeks. There was almost a freedom in the mess, and Lexa's lips tugged up just a little further as her fingers continued to rub together, spreading the paint along them.  
  
That smile immediately fell away the moment her hands turned over, heart suddenly thudding in her throat at the sight of the red staining her palm.  
  
_She felt the attempted gasp against her palm, felt the suction as the man pressed against her front tried desperately to take in a lungful of air. Her other hand circled his body, the knife pressed between her fingers both heavy and light at the same time. The skin along the Reaper's neck gave almost no resistance as the blade of her knife sliced against it, opening it as easily as though she were cutting through butter. Hot liquid ran over the weapon, coating her fingers in his blood. The man barely had time to realize what had happened before his entire body went limp and Lexa had to shift her hold on him, letting her hand drop from his mouth so as to catch the dead weight before he could fall to the ground and stain it anymore than he already had. It didn't matter: he was past the point of being able to cry out and warn his people._  
  
Lexa couldn't catch her breath; she felt herself gasp, felt her lungs attempt to expand, but something stopped any air from making its way to them. Panic fizzled at the edges of her mind, but even that couldn't seem to break through the barriers the memory had sprouted around her, cocooning her back in the past and everything she had felt in that moment. She felt pressure against her chest, a phantom body pressed against her, and for a second she swore she could even smell the Reaper she had killed, his own personal body odor flooding her nose before the hot iron of his blood chased it away. The sticky substance along her hand was no longer paint but his blood, forever staining her and reminding her of the first person she had murdered on that day.  
  
Still unable to catch her breath, Lexa's clean hand shot out, shaking as she lashed at the handle to the faucet. Hot water began pouring out, splashing against the palettes in the sink, and she immediately plunged her red hand beneath it, scrubbing furiously at the paint. The water turned red when it mixed with the paint, the thin stream of scarlet sliding along her palm, over her wrist and fingers before swirling down the drain, and even as she watched it wash away, she continued to scrub. She grabbed the brush they used for washing dishes and ran it across her palm, determined to get the red off. The temperature of the water rose, hot water now burning and turning her skin pink, and still she scrubbed. She scrubbed her palm until she could breathe again, finally taking short gasps of air. She scrubbed until the images were only quick flashes, until the pressure moved from outside her chest to inside it, some kind of vice attempting to calm her still thudding heart but entirely unable to. She scrubbed until she could ground herself, until she could pull herself out of the memories and back to the present, back to her kitchen and the sink and the here and now.  
  
A knock at the front door helped to finally completely pull her out of the past and into the present. Pounding feet on the stairs grounded her, and she let her eyes close as she took a deep breath, finally pulling her hands out from beneath the scorching water and dropping the bristled brush.  
  
“They're here!” she heard her son yell, now at the bottom of the stairs. Squaring her shoulders and opening her eyes, Lexa made herself take a deep breath, schooling her expression, before she grabbed a towel and began making her way into the hall. Calvin was busy pulling his shoes on, grinning excitedly as he worked to tie them, and Lexa forced an easy smile to her lips. Walking to the door she opened it, towel still in one hand, and smiled at the two brunettes standing on the doorstep.  
  
“Octavia,” she greeted, nodding to the taller one, and then looked down at the girl beside her. “Emma. Thank you for coming to pick Cal up.”  
  
“Not a problem,” Octavia told her with a grin, even as Calvin moved up beside his mother, smiling at his best friend. “Hey there dude! You ready?”  
  
“Yep!” he called, then looked up at his mother. “Bye Mama,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist in a quick hug. “See you later!” Lexa smiled, this time genuinely, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, returning the hold.  
  
“Bye,” she said, even as he pulled away and stepped out to join his friend and her mother. “Have fun!”  
  
“We will,” Octavia called back to her, the two children already making their way back towards the car and talking excitedly together, as best friends do. The smaller woman waved to her and then followed them, and Lexa let herself watch them for just a moment before stepping back and letting the door close behind her.  
  
As the door swung shut, Lexa let out a long breath, feeling her body sag back against it. She was here, home: she just needed to remember that. She was in the house she and Clarke had bought together, had a pile of laundry waiting for her in the kitchen and paint palettes in the sink to rinse off, and that was all it was. _Paint_ , not blood, not anything that should make all of this resurface, all these feelings and fears. Guilt. None of this was a part of her life, not anymore. It all belonged in her past, needed to stay locked away there, far away from where it could taint the life she now lived. She needed to remember that.  
  
Little noises suddenly wafted down the stairs, signs that two more reminders of the time and place had woken up from nap time and were ready to get on with their days, and Lexa allowed herself one more deep breath before pushing off the door. As she made her way over to and then up the stairs, she felt her shoulders square, her head tilt imperceptibly higher, forcing herself to push back against the thoughts that had invaded her, once again locking the memories and emotions they invoked away, trying to put them back in storage. Locking them away to eventually be forgotten. Or so she desperately hoped. 

***

_Two Weeks Later_

Skylar's shrieking echoed through the house, the cries bouncing off the walls. Holding her, Lexa winced, the high-pitched screams piercing her eardrums. As she'd been doing for hours now, she continually bounced the toddler against her side, desperately trying to calm her down. She'd tried changing her, tried feeding her, playing with her, bouncing her, everything she could possibly think of, but still Skylar cried. They'd been warned before adopting her that the toddler was known for having bad days, days where all she could do was cry, but they hadn't yet experienced one, not really. Now Lexa fully understood what Keenan had meant, and as Skylar screamed against her, the mother felt her anxiety spike, not knowing what to do to calm her down.  
  
“Shh,” she shushed, still rocking and bouncing the toddler. She had to speak loudly to be heard over Skylar's screaming. “You're okay, Skylar! You're okay, I have you. I have you. Shh.” The words did nothing, tears still streaking down the little girl's cheeks, her entire face red. Lexa paced from the living room to the kitchen and back, hoping the steady movements would help to calm her daughter, but Skylar's face just pressed against her shoulder, her cries muffled but still all too clear. Part of the brunette wished that Tris were there, as she always seemed to know how to calm her sister down, but Abby and Jake had taken her and Calvin for the afternoon, an opportunity for a little grandparent/grandchildren bonding, and she didn't expect them to be back for another hour or so.  
  
As she paced with the screaming toddler, Lexa had to clench her jaw, holding in her own desire to scream. Not only could she feel her anxiety spiking after hours of being unable to calm the toddler, but her arm had started aching over an hour ago. Usually the damaged arm felt fine, barely any noticeable adverse side effects from when it had been crushed, but every now and then the pain flared up. When it did, Lexa tried not to lift anything with it if she could help it, the pain only increasing when she did. This afternoon she'd had to fight back against that pain, Skylar not allowing for anything else. She kept shifting her from one arm to the other to try to give her right arm some relief, but that relief never lasted for very long.  
  
“It's okay Skylar,” she tried again to no avail. The toddler simply kept shrieking, her fingers gripping Lexa's shirt so tightly she could feel the pinch against her skin. The pinch was completely overshadowed by her arm, the limb aching so deeply Lexa could barely think of anything else, including her crying daughter. Finally, unable to take it anymore and figuring the pacing wasn't doing anything anyway, the mother stopped, kneeling down and setting the toddler on the floor.  
  
Somehow, Skylar's shrieking only grew in volume, a feat Lexa hadn't thought possible. Quickly she picked the little girl right back up, holding in her own small cry as her arm protested sharply. She went right back to bouncing, Skylar's head tilting back and hands returning to Lexa's shirt. As she continued her crying, Lexa began pacing again, biting her lip in an attempt to help distract her from her arm. After a few more minutes she gave up on the pacing and bouncing, and instead fell on the couch, holding Skylar against her chest as she laid back. The toddler's screams didn't lessen but they didn't increase, and the cushions beneath her helped at least to take some of the pressure off of her arm.  
  
She had no idea how long she laid there with the little girl, Skylar's screams finally tapering off into just crying but never completely stopping, before she finally heard movement at the front of the house. She didn't move, didn't even try to get up, instead just waiting and listening as she heard feet suddenly running through the kitchen.  
  
“Sky!” Tris cried, sprinting into the living room. She ran straight to the couch, not even sparing a glance at the brunette. She grabbed her sister, hold gentle as she pulled her to her, carefully dragging the toddler down to the floor, pulling her into her lap. Skylar continued to cry but threw her arms around her sister's neck, burying her face into the crook of her shoulder.  
  
Clarke and Calvin followed Tris into the living room, the boy looking a little terrified at the noises coming from Skylar, the blonde glancing worriedly between the two little girls and her wife still on the couch. As they approached, Lexa pushed herself up into a sitting position, and she saw Clarke's eyes drop to her arm, clearly noticing how she held it close to her, using her left side to support most of her weight.  
  
“What happened?” she wanted to know, scanning Lexa. “Are you okay?”  
  
“Of course,” Lexa merely answered, standing up. Nodding towards Skylar, now whimpering against her sister, her screams finally ending, she added, “It has just been a bad day for Skylar, that is all. It looks like she's calming down now, thankfully.” Clarke continued scanning her face, clearly reading more there that Lexa wasn't saying, but when the brunette simply lifted an eyebrow, she decided to let it drop for the moment. “Alright,” she finally said, looking back at the kids, glancing from the two girls to Calvin. “Well Cal, since Tris is busy helping Skylar, would you like to help me get dinner ready?” He nodded, clearly happy to leave the room with the sad toddler, and the two exited back to the kitchen.  
  
With Tris back, Skylar finally managed to calm down and Lexa just sat back, able to relax a little now that no one was shrieking in her ear. Her arm continued to ache, but now at least in a way she could manage. She sat and watched over the girls while Clarke and Calvin prepared dinner, and soon they were all eating, Skylar simply pushing her food around, barely taking more than a few bites no matter how much anyone tried to convince her to eat more. Not long after dinner the children went to bed, earlier than usual but no one seemed to have the energy to stay up any longer. Skylar let out a little whimper as they tucked her into her crib, but by the time they finished tucking Tris in and saying goodnight, the little girl had fallen asleep, exhausted after her day of screaming.  
  
“Are you sure you're okay, Lexa?” Clarke asked later as they got ready for bed. She'd watched as her wife dragged out the sling she'd gotten her years ago for whenever her arm bothered her and slid her arm into it, strapping it to her body. Normally she had to cajole the other woman into using it when she noticed that her arm was bugging her, so the fact Lexa took it out on her own worried her.  
  
Lexa turned, giving her a small smile over her shoulder as she finished settling her arm in place. The movement caused the steady ache she still felt to flare up momentarily, before dimming again.  
  
“I am fine, Clarke,” she replied, turning and then striding over to their bed. She climbed in, sliding beneath the sheets next to her wife, body slowly remembering how to move when only one arm worked. She leaned a little too far to the side as she moved, and nearly fell over before she managed to catch herself. Unable to hold it in, she scowled slightly, huffing out, “I hate this thing.”  
  
“I know you do,” Clarke told her, lifting an eyebrow, “Which is why I'm worried that something's wrong.” Scowl easing away, Lexa gave her another little smile, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss against the blonde's cheek.  
  
“I promise, I am fine Clarke,” she swore, meeting concerned blue eyes. “My arm is simply hurting a little after holding Skylar for so long today. It will be fine again in the morning. I just need a little rest.” The blonde scanned her face, looking for something, and then just nodded. “Okay,” she said, turning and flipping the switch of the lamp on her bedside table, the light immediately turning off. “Let's get some sleep then.” Lexa smiled, her entire body twisting so that she could do the same, and then as the room fell dark they both slid against the mattress. Clarke turned, pressing another kiss against Lexa's shoulder before curling into the brunette, and Lexa felt her smile grow before her eyes closed. Within minutes both were asleep, their breathing easing.  
  
_Her body shook, even as it flew through the air, the shock waves hitting her and driving her forward. A heat so intense she could feel its burn through her clothes smashed into her back, it or the shock waves driving the air from her lungs. She crashed against the ground even as another explosion tore through the air, and somewhere inside she knew that wasn't right even if she couldn't figure out why. She tried to push herself up but fell back to the ground, her right arm giving out beneath her, agonizing pain blazing through it. Silently she cried out, in pain, in confusion, in fear, she didn't know, but it didn't matter. As another explosion sounded around her, she found herself unable to speak or shout, unable to make any sound. Quelling the panic growing in her chest, she managed to get her left arm under her, pushing herself up just enough to be able to look around her. A body lay not far away, Ryder's large form not moving, and she knew that wasn't right either even as her eyes widened. She tried to push herself up, tried to rise so that she could go to him, but couldn't. Her body wouldn't cooperate, wouldn't move, even after years of training it to do as she wished no matter what. Another explosion sounded behind her, and all she could do was lay there, staring forward at her fallen comrade.  
  
As the reverberation of the incredible boom tapered off, Lexa's eyes widened, a new sound building beneath it. The cry, high-pitched and terrified, caused the panic she'd felt building to spike, rising to an all new level she'd never felt before. She knew that cry, would know it anywhere, and began desperately scanning around her in search of the little girl making it. She froze, finally spotting Skylar yards away, her face red and tears streaking down her face as she sat there in terror. Desperately she began tearing at the dirt, eyes never leaving her daughter as she fought to pull herself over to her, sheer panic taking over. Skylar continued to cry, little shoulders heaving, as another explosion tore through the air, and as dirt flew around them, all Lexa could do was silently scream._  
  
The screaming continued as Lexa shot up in bed, but it wasn't coming from her. Nearly tumbling to the floor when she forgot her right arm was still strapped to her torso, she threw the blankets off and rolled out of the bed, running almost before her feet even touched the floor. Another boom rolled through the air, and in the back of her mind she registered the thunder, realizing it had been this that had caused the dream. She didn't focus on it though, barely even let the knowledge sink in, as she ran down the hall to Tris and Skylar's room. Entering, she found light from Tris's lamp flooding the room, the older girl already standing by her sister's crib.  
  
Quickly Lexa moved over to the crib, reaching inside with her one arm and curling it around the crying toddler, hauling her up so she could balance her against her hip. Immediately Skylar curled into her, whimpering and crying as another clap of thunder rolled out.  
  
“It's okay, Sky,” she murmured, once again bouncing the toddler gently against her. “It's okay sweetie, I have you. You're safe, Skylar, Mama has you.” She lifted her closer, pressing her forehead against the top of the little girl's head, heart still racing from the dream. “You are safe; I will never let anything happen to you. I promise.”  
  
“Is she okay?” she heard, and looked down to see Tris staring up at her sister, obvious fear and worry flashing across her face. Giving her an encouraging smile, she told her, “She is fine, just a little scared. As soon as the thunder ends, I'm sure she'll go right back to sleep.” Tris nodded, a little hesitantly, and then latched herself against Lexa's leg when twin booms rang out, one following immediately after the first. The mother tried to reach down to wrap her arm around her, and growled when she felt the sling hold it in place instead. Shifting Skylar slightly, she grabbed the sling with her left hand and yanked her arm out of it, ignoring the deep ache the movement caused. As soon as it was free, she reached down, wrapping her arm around Tris's shoulder and holding her close.  
  
A shift in the floorboards behind her pulled her attention back, and she turned with the two girls to find Clarke, Calvin and Pauna standing in the doorway, the little boy trying to keep his own fear from his face even as he subconsciously pushed against the blonde's side, Clarke's arm around his shoulder to try to comfort him.  
  
Eyes flickering over them all, Lexa made a decision.  
  
“Everyone get your blankets and pillows,” she told them, nodding over towards Tris's bed. “And then come with me.” Tris shot her a look, clearly suspicious, but pulled herself away to go back over to her bed and grab her purple blanket and pillow while Clarke and Calvin moved to do as she'd said. Lexa turned, reaching back into the crib and grabbing Skylar's bear blanket. As a second thought, she reached back in to get Doggie, Skylar immediately reaching for it when Lexa held it up for her. Blankets now in hand, the three of them moved into the hall, meeting Calvin and Clarke as they exited the other two bedrooms, blankets and pillows in arm. Pauna trailed after the little boy, pressing against him as another roll of thunder shook against the house. Suddenly the hall light went out, shrouding them in darkness. Lexa felt Skylar shrink against her, letting out a little whimper, and then felt Tris push against her as well. Trying to remember where she'd left her cell phone, Lexa looked up in surprise when a little light flickered to life, Clarke shining it around to check and make sure they were all still okay. Clearly the blonde had thought ahead, and Lexa flashed her a quick smile before focusing on the kids again.  
  
“Come on,” she simply said, nodding towards the stairs. The group made their way down, following the brunette, and then Lexa led the way through the downstairs and into the living room. Shifting Skylar over to her right arm, barely feeling the ache, she gestured to the furniture. Looking at her two older children, she told them, “We are going to make a blanket fort to ride out the storm in, but Mumma and I are going to need your help. Do you think you guys can help us?” Calvin grinned, eyes suddenly shining, and even Tris looked excited.  
  
“Yeah!” they both shouted, and then they began to get to work, Tris clearly too preoccupied to remind her they weren't her mothers as she usually did. While Clarke and the two kids began moving the chairs, Lexa snuck into the office with Skylar, eyes straining in the dim light filtering in from Clarke's phone as she looked for the flashlights she knew they stored in there. Finally finding them, she grabbed a couple, turning one on before she returned to the living room.  
  
When the couch had to be shifted, Lexa handed Skylar down to her sister, the two little girls standing back out of the way, and she and Clarke moved the heavy piece of furniture. As soon as everything was rearranged, Calvin began throwing blankets over them, the mothers quickly helping as they grabbed the extra blankets strewn throughout the room. Tris helped as much as she could, but every time another boom sounded Skylar would let out another little cry, tightening her grip against her sister. The family worked quickly, and soon a big blanket fort stood in the middle of their living room.  
  
“Alright,” Clarke said as they all stood back, admiring their work. “Everyone inside!” Calvin led the way, dashing inside the fort, Pauna right beside him and Tris moving as quickly as she could behind him, still holding her sister. Listening to the two older children argue as they moved around inside, the mothers smiled at each other. Clarke held out her hand, Lexa gladly accepting it, and together they moved forward, Lexa holding the hanging blanket aside and letting the blonde enter first before she followed her in. Once inside, they found Calvin and Tris already laying in the blankets they'd left out for sleeping, Pauna curled up on the boy's other side and Skylar sitting next to her sister. Seeing the two mothers enter, the toddler reached out, no longer crying but clearly uncertain, and Clarke smiled as she reached out to her, drawing the little girl into her arms. They had to move forward on their knees to keep themselves from hitting the top of the blanket fort, but managed to crawl to either side of their children without knocking anything over.  
  
Lexa gave Pauna a look, the dog picking her head up and looking at her mother as she slid over to her. “Pauna, I'm sorry, but you are going to have to move,” she informed the dog, lightly nudging her side, and eventually the dog pulled herself up, shifting instead to lay at Calvin's feet. She took the dog's spot as Clarke moved beside Tris, and soon they were all laying down, somehow managing to find room for everyone in the small space.  
  
“Okay,” Lexa told them, her voice quiet. “Now it's time to sleep. The storm won't be able to get you, and if either of you are scared, Mumma and I will be right here.”  
  
“Not scared,” she heard Tris mumble, and when she looked over she found the little girl's eyes closed, clearly already on her way to sleep again. “Sky just was.”  
  
“Yeah,” Calvin agreed, also nearly asleep again. “Just her.” Over them, Clarke met Lexa's eyes, amusement tugging at her expression. “Of course,” she agreed, also speaking quietly. “It was very nice of both of you to agree to this, just for Skylar. You're a couple of great big siblings.”  
  
“Mm,” was all Tris managed to get out, her breathing quickly evening out, and Calvin had already fallen asleep. Beside the blonde, even Skylar had settled down, Doggie held tightly in her grip while her bear blanket covered her. The surgeon shook her head, smile still tugging at her lips, before she looked over at her wife.  
  
“This was a fantastic idea, Lexa,” she whispered, trying not to wake up any of the sleeping kids. The brunette met her look, returning the smile, before she sat up slightly, removing the sling from her torso. Watching her, Clarke's grin fell slightly, worry clouding her expression. “Is your arm okay?” she asked. Tossing the sling beside her, Lexa looked back over, giving her a reassuring nod.  
  
“Yes Clarke, my arm is fine,” she promised, not entirely lying. She would have expected it to hurt more than ever after all the movement and shifting of furniture, but the ache was only slight, certainly nothing she couldn't ignore. She reached out, over the kids heads, and smiled as Clarke mirrored the movement, clasping their hands together. Giving her another smile, she whispered, “Good night, Clarke.” The blonde returned the smile, clearly appeased, and murmured back, “Good night, Lexa.”  
  
After that, they let themselves drift off, the storm still breaking through their blanket fort every now and then but somehow no longer managing to disturb those cocooned inside, the safety of the many blankets all the shelter they needed. Lexa slept, a wonderfully dreamless sleep. 

***

Before the storm and her arm hurting, the sudden flashes of memories had been few and far between, moments that Lexa could ignore and try to force herself to forget about. After, they became more frequent, little details of memories coming up almost every day, her heart racing in her chest whenever they did. Still she tried to ignore them, tried to pretend they were nothing. She had no desire to allow herself to focus on her past, no wish to revisit these painful memories that kept cropping up, and so stayed quiet about them. She pushed them away, hiding them from Clarke and pretending they were nothing, until one night she couldn't. 

***

_One Week Later_

_The body on top of her pinned her down, and no matter how hard she flailed, trying to throw him off, he remained. Her arm laid limply at her side, no longer of use since he'd crushed it, and she felt white-hot pain pulsing in her chest. Fear and desperation clawed at her throat, but she tried not to show them, tried to keep her expression calm even as she watched his pull up into a satisfied smirk. They'd fought and he'd won, and now he had her pinned beneath him, to do to her as he wished. His weight crushed against her chest and she couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't do anything but stare up at the man on top of her. At the edge of her vision she could see his men, faceless but for their sneers, all clearly waiting to see what he would do to her, but she couldn't tear her focus from him long enough to really look at them. The man leaned forward, pressing more of his weight against her, face now mere inches from her own.  
  
“A pretty thing like you shouldn't die with bullets in your belly,” he mocked, an ugly sneer pulling at his mouth.“It'd be such a waste.” His breath, too hot, brushed against her skin at the same time his words registered in her mind, and she felt bile rising in the back of her throat._  
  
The bile didn't stop as she woke up, bolting up in bed with no warning and terrifying Panther, the cat leaping off of her chest. She threw the blankets off of her and raced to the side of the room, yanking open the door to her and Clarke's bathroom, only just managing to make it to the toilet before the contents of her stomach raced up her throat. She heaved loudly, emptying her dinner into the toilet as her body trembled, the dream too real, too vivid. She swore she could still smell the Reaper's breath coating her nose, and heaved again.  
  
“Lexa!” she heard behind her, the light flipping on and a hand gently falling on her back immediately after. She flinched, jerking away from the touch and again she heaved, unable to control her stomach or body in general, but tried desperately, hearing the fear in her wife's voice.  
  
“I'm fine,” she finally managed to groan between heaves. “Must just have... the flu... or something.” Her stomach muscles clenched, body wanting to throw more up but no longer having anything but bile left, and she closed her eyes, trying to regain control over her breathing. When she opened her eyes again, a small cup of water entered her vision and she accepted it, nodding a thanks to the blonde. Quickly she took a big gulp, swishing the water around in her mouth before she spit it into the toilet, hoping to wash her mouth out. She felt the cup leave her grip for a moment before returning the next, once again full, and again she swished the water around, the acrid taste of vomit and bile coating her tongue. Finally feeling like she might be in control of herself, Lexa flushed the toilet and then pushed herself away from it, falling back and resting up against the tub of the shower, pressing her forehead against the cool porcelain. This time when she was handed the cup, she heard Clarke instruct, “Drink it this time. Slow sips.” She did as she was told, closing her eyes as she lifted the cup to her lips. She waited, huddled against the tub, knowing there was no hiding it this time.  
  
“You flinched away from me.”  
  
Lexa's eyes opened, naturally moving to the blonde standing by the sink. Sleep-tussled hair hung over nearly bare shoulders, and she followed it up until she was looking into her wife's face, seeing the pain and worry shining so clearly in blue eyes. Lexa's mouth opened, trying to say something, but for a second she couldn't get it out. Finally she managed to croak, “I didn't, didn't mean to. I just, I'm-”  
  
“Don't tell me you're fine, Lexa,” Clarke cut her off, anger coloring her tone, the emotion clearly stemming from her fear. “You're not fine; you're not. I've let you keep telling me you're fine because I didn't have any proof that you weren't, but you aren't and you haven't been for a while. Now tell me what's going on.” Lexa's jaw clenched, her own anger growing when she felt tears burning at the corners of her eyes, but she held them back. She didn't answer, didn't know really what she could say or how she could get it all out, so she stayed silent. Clarke's eyes flashed across her face, trying to read everything there that she wasn't saying, and then she was sinking to the floor too, still keeping her distance from the other woman. “It's got something to do with the Marines, doesn't it?” she questioned, knowing she was right when Lexa glanced away from her. Licking her lips, feeling her own panic building, she tampered it down, knowing that she had to stay calm for her wife. “You've been, what, having flashbacks? Maybe some panic attacks?” Still Lexa didn't answer, didn't even look at her, and she felt her throat burning. “That's why Ryder told me to keep an eye on you,” she murmured, finally connecting the dots on the man's strange behavior at the Fourth of July party.  
  
That, at least, got a reaction.  
  
“Ryder?” Lexa asked, quickly looking back at her and scanning her face. “He told you to do what?”  
  
“To keep an eye on you,” she repeated, voice quiet. “At the end of the party. He seemed worried about you. Now I know why.”  
  
Lexa's expression darkened, lips pursing into a thin line. “He had no right to say that to you,” she growled, hands curling into fists. “He shouldn't have worried you.”  
  
“No, Lexa, apparently he should have been more direct!” Clarke exclaimed, only managing to keep her voice down when she remembered their three sleeping children down the hall. Lexa's eyes widened at her raised voice, but she didn't stop. “It's been almost two months since then, Lexa! _Two months_ , and you never told me what was happening! For two months you've been hiding this from me, from everyone, while this has been tearing you apart!”  
  
“It hasn't been that bad,” Lexa muttered, trying to defend herself, but she just sank back further against the tub as Clarke leveled a glare at her, pointing at the toilet.  
  
“Lexa, you just got physically sick from this!” she growled, totally unaware her hands were shaking. “That means whatever has been going on inside your head is so strong that it's powerful enough to cause a physical reaction. A physical, _violent_ reaction! And you flinched away from me.” Lexa could hear the pain in her voice, and nearly flinched again. “You flinched from me, which means you feel unsafe.”  
  
“Not with you,” Lexa whispered. “I've never felt unsafe with you.” The burning in the back of Clarke's throat flared up, a lump forming she could barely talk around, but finally she managed to get out quietly, “You just did, Lexa. Whether you were aware of it or not, you just felt unsafe with me. My touch scared you.”  
  
“It wasn't you I was pulling away from,” Lexa replied, voice quiet and then becoming nearly inaudible as she continued. “It was him. I, I thought you were him. I knew you weren't, but the dream was too fresh, too real, and I thought...”  
  
“Who, Lexa?” Clarke asked softly, trying to coax it out of her. “Who were you dreaming about?” The brunette swallowed, so thickly Clarke could see it, and then the tears that had been pricking at the corners of her eyes finally began to slowly fall. “Him,” she whispered, using her left hand to gesture to her chest and right arm. “It was him, the Reaper who...” She couldn't finish the thought, didn't need to as she saw understanding flash across the blonde's face.  
  
“Lexa...” Clarke breathed, heart breaking in her chest. She began to move forward, wanting nothing more than to hold her love, but then stopped herself. Meeting green eyes swimming in more fear than she'd ever seen before, she asked quietly, “Lexa, honey, can I touch you? Is that okay?” Her wife nodded, the motion fast and almost furious, and immediately the blonde surged forward, wrapping her arms around her wife. She felt Lexa's arms encircle her, her grip tight as though she were holding on for dear life, and in a way Clarke knew she was. “I've got you, Lexa,” she whispered against brown waves, feeling tears begin to fall against her shoulder. “I've got you. You're safe, my love. I'm right here.”  
  
They stayed like that, neither knowing how much time passed as Clarke held Lexa, the brunette finally allowing herself to break against her wife. Clarke's hand rubbed gently along her back, drawing soothing circles against her as she shook, and Lexa let it all out, everything she'd been forcing back for weeks now. They stayed, huddled together on the bathroom floor, until the ex-Marine stopped shaking, tears finally ending. When she pulled back, the blonde's arms remained around her, not letting her go very far.  
  
“Clarke,” she croaked, voice a little broken after her crying. “I'm sorry.”  
  
“Shh,” the other woman murmured, fingers moving up to wipe away the tear streaks from her cheeks. “It's okay.”  
  
“No, it's not,” Lexa replied, shaking her head, and she watched as the corners of the blonde's lips quirked up softly. “No,” she agreed, “It isn't, but we can talk about why it isn't later. Right now I just want you to feel safe.” A brief smile tugged at the brunette's mouth, before it fell away again. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against Clarke's shoulder. “I shouldn't have kept this from you. I should have told you when it started.”  
  
“When did it start?” Clarke asked, wanting to get as much information as she could without making Lexa feel uncomfortable or unsafe again. “The Fourth of July was the first time,” her wife answered, not lifting her head. “I took Tris and Skylar on a run and heard some people letting off firecrackers. I thought they were gun shots. And then later that night, the fireworks did the same thing. Ryder must have noticed something in my reaction, because he knew.”  
  
“How often has it been happening?” the blonde wanted to know, tone still quiet, soft. Lexa let out a small sigh, picking up her head so that she could meet blue eyes that immediately began scanning her face. “It only happened a couple of times, until last week,” she answered honestly. “I kept hoping it would just stop. But then my arm hurt, and the thunderstorm happened, and since then it's been happening a lot. Usually it's just little things, a flash of a memory, a smell that reminds me of one of the battles I was in, things like that, and I can push them back. Tonight though...” She shook her head, briefly closing her eyes. Opening them again, she met Clarke's, the other woman not looking away. “The dream just felt so real. He was on top of me and I just, I couldn't move.” She shrugged. “I couldn't do anything. I couldn't fight. I was helpless.”  
  
Lexa seldom talked about her days in the Marines, and even more seldom spoke about that last day, that nearly fatal fight. Clarke had learned the details of it over time, as many as she needed at least to piece it all together, and now she felt herself hold Lexa tighter, understanding everything Lexa said and everything she couldn't get out. Now she felt her own tears begin to fall, and she moved forward, pressing her forehead against her wife's.  
  
“You're never helpless, Lexa,” she growled, fear at what she had almost lost that day clawing at her chest. “And you're never alone. I will fight right beside you. You survived that day, and you came back home to me, and now we're together and no one will ever tear us apart. You, Lexa, Captain Alexandria Griffin-Woods, Heda and one-time leader of the Grounders, are the strongest person I have ever known, but you don't have to fight on your own. You don't have to hold everything together by yourself, and that includes yourself. That's why you have me; to help you when you can't hold it all in.” She made sure she had Lexa's full attention, staring into green eyes that still swam in fear and guilt. “But for me to be able to do that, you need to include me in your life and what's going on with you. You can't shut me out, Lexa, not from any part of you.”  
  
“I'm sorry,” Lexa whispered again, shaking her head even as she pressed harder against the blonde. “I'm so sorry, Clarke.” She reached up, fingers brushing against pale cheeks, chasing away her love's tears. She felt Clarke lean into the touch, eyes closing, before she just nodded.  
  
Once again, they simply sat there, feeling the other pressed close. They sank against each other, soon breathing in sync, beginning to calm down with every breath. Only once their hearts were once again beating normally in their chests, did Clarke finally stand up, reaching down to her wife as soon as she was up.  
  
“Come on,” she murmured, “Let's go to bed.” Just as Lexa was about to take the offered hand, she pulled it back slightly, raising an eyebrow when her wife gave her a curious look. “And tomorrow we can call Ryder. He wants to help, and I think he can. Okay?” Lexa's lips curled up in a small smile, leaning forward so that she could reach Clarke's hand. Letting the blonde help her up, she nodded.  
  
“Okay,” she agreed. “We will call Ryder tomorrow.” When Clarke gave her a skeptical look, clearly not entirely believing her, she slipped her fingers through the blonde's, tightening her grip. “I promise.” Clarke returned her smile, pressing back against the grip, and then the two left the bathroom, moving back to their bed. Hands still clasped, they curled into each other, falling back into the absolute safety they could only ever find in the other's arms. 

***

_Four Days Later_

Adjusting the strap of the diaper bag over her shoulder, Lexa scanned the room, trying to take it all in. She saw more than a dozen people, some just standing around, others clearly going through physical therapy as she watched, trying to walk on prosthetic legs, to lift various items with prosthetic hands or arms, others still getting used to moving in wheelchairs. Bits of tattoos flashed against bare arms, necks, a few shoulders, many symbols or phrases she hadn't seen in years. An older man passed by her, completely ignoring her, and as he passed she caught a glimpse of black ink, the words _Semper Fi_ scrawled along his upper arm. Her grip on the strap tightened, nerves hidden but very much effecting her. Balancing against her opposite hip, Skylar didn't seem as interested in the activity around her, still waking up from the nap she'd taken on the way there. Her head rested in the crook of Lexa's neck, fingers lightly gripping at her shirt. As she shifted, face rubbing against the mother's neck, Lexa's arm tightened around her.  
  
Lexa looked around, trying to figure out where she was supposed to go, when she heard someone approaching from behind her. Turning, she relaxed slightly, giving Ryder a small smile as he moved over to her. Clearly he'd been waiting for her, probably wondering if she would even show up, and now he grinned, happier than she remembered ever seeing him. He stopped only when he reached her, still smiling as he nodded. “Heda, I'm glad you came,” he told her, and then looked down at Skylar. “And little Skylar as well.”  
  
It hadn't been her plan to bring the toddler. The day after her talk with Clarke she had kept to her promise and called Ryder, the former Grounder obviously thrilled that she had finally admitted to her need for some help. He had given her a list of days and times of the counseling sessions his VA Center hosted, and she'd chosen this one because it was Calvin and Tris's first day of school. With the two older children out of the house, she made plans for her father to take Skylar for the morning, but yesterday those plans had fallen through when something came up at his work. When she called Ryder last night to reschedule, instead he had insisted she just bring the little girl with her. Even now she still felt skeptical of having the toddler around a bunch of ex-soldiers, unsure how well that would go over for either Skylar or the soldiers, but in the end she had agreed to it. They were there now, so she would just have to keep her eye on Skylar and make sure she was comfortable.  
  
“I'm glad to be here,” she replied, returning his nod. When he gave her a look, raising an eyebrow, the mask she'd put in place before walking inside slipped just a little. “Alright, perhaps not glad,” she amended. “But I am here, nevertheless.”  
  
“You are,” he agreed, and then turned, gesturing for her to follow. “This way. We are about to start.”  
  
He led the way down a hall, walking by a number of rooms, and Lexa tried to just look straight ahead. She knew she needed to be there, really had accepted that she needed some help, but that didn't stop her heart from pounding in her chest. The one-time soldiers all around her only made it harder for her to keep calm, her past desperately clawing at her insides to make itself known once again. No part of her wanted to have to allow it back in, to give it any focus, but she knew she had no choice but to accept why she was there. She needed help, and that meant allowing her past into her present, no matter how much it might hurt. With each step she took, she felt her back straighten a little more, slipping back into her role of Heda more easily than she cared to admit.  
  
Ryder finally turned into a small room, and Lexa followed, finding six other people already there, sitting in a little circle of chairs. Two of the chairs closest to them were still empty, and Lexa followed Ryder as he led the way to them.  
  
“Heda, let me introduce you to everyone,” the ex-Grounder said as they sat down. Going around the circle, he nodded to each person in turn. Immediately to Ryder's left, Private First Class Uzac Yuj raised an eyebrow at her, lips pressed together in a thin line. Beside him, Petty Officer Second Class Derrick Woda nodded to her, and Lexa returned the nod, not so much as glancing at the prosthetic where his left hand had once been. Lieutenant Luna Flouk did the same, studying her from beneath long lashes, and Lexa allowed herself a brief second to study the other woman right back. Private First Class Lee Huang gave her a smile, his expression friendly, while only one corner of Senior Airman Atom Ward's lips quirked up. The final person in the circle, Private Second Class Micha Adams, eyed her, a grin on his face.  
  
“So you're the famous Heda,” he just said as Ryder finished going around the circle. His grin grew, lifting a hand off the arm of the wheelchair he sat in and pointed at the toddler she had settled on her lap. “In all the stories Ryder's told about you, I never exactly pictured you with a kid.” Lexa merely sat straighter in her seat, holding Skylar a little closer to her. It was Ryder who answered, informing them all, “This is one of Heda's daughters, Skylar.” The toddler looked up at her name, and Lexa felt her push herself into the mother, clearly unsure about all these people around them. The brunette leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against red curls, reminding her of her presence.  
  
“My father was going to watch her, but that did not work out,” she informed them, sitting back up. She looked around then, eyeing Ryder out of the corner of her vision, and continued, “And I do not know what Ryder has told you about me, but you can simply call me Lexa.”  
  
“Oh we've heard a lot about you,” Lee told her, still smiling, a bit of awe in his voice. “And not all from Ryder. Captain Alexandria Woods, leader of the Grounders, known by your people as 'Heda;' you're kind of a legend.”  
  
Lexa's eyes widened slightly, uncertain what to say to that, but then turned to Uzac as he let out a little laugh. “Don't mind Huang,” he said, quirking an eyebrow first at the younger man and then at her. “He's been hoping to meet you ever since Ryder told us about the flying lessons you used to give your people.” Lexa's lips twitched, looking over at Lee as she easily replied, “My people never seemed quite as enthusiastic about those lessons.” The young man just grinned, pointing at Ryder. “Anyone who can throw a man as big as Ryder through the air is someone worth meeting.”  
  
“Ryder flew fewer times than anyone else in my unit,” she admitted, flashing a small smile over at her friend. The big Marine shrugged, telling them, “I still managed to fly every once in a while. I just didn't go quite as far.” A number of people grinned at that, clearly trying to imagine it, and Lexa simply shook her head, lips still quirked up. She looked down to check on Skylar, the little girl seeming to be content just laying against her chest on her lap. Shrugging the diaper bag off her shoulder, she let it fall to the floor before leaning over it and grabbed Doggie out of one of the little side pouches. The toddler's face lit up as soon as she saw it, happily taking it from the mother and holding it against her.  
  
“But the flying lessons aren't the reason you're here, are they?” a soft voice asked from across the circle, and Lexa stiffened before looking up, finding Luna already meeting her look. The woman shifted, leaning slightly forward in her chair, not breaking eye contact. It was a gentle pry, an attempt to ease the conversation into why they were there, and she both appreciated and hated it. After a moment, she nodded stiffly.  
  
“They are not,” she agreed. “I am here because I...” She trailed off, jaw clenching. It was one thing to admit to Clarke that she needed help, but a whole other thing to admit it to a room full of strangers. She was too proud, too stubborn to be able to easily get the word out. Luckily, Ryder spoke up, preventing her from having to. His hand rested gently on her shoulder, and she shifted slightly, giving him a look. He met her eyes, giving her the smallest nod, and then turned to slowly gaze around the entire circle. “She is here for the same reason we all are,” he told them simply. “Because the past does not always stay in the past. Sometimes the things we saw, what we went through or did, come back to us. They haunt us, and when they do we need to be able to get them out with others who will understand.”  
  
“I tried talking to my wife, when I came back,” Micha said, purposefully or accidentally taking the spot-light off of Lexa, something she was perfectly content to allow. Whereas before his tone had been open, almost teasing, now it was quiet, more sombre. “But she didn't know what to say. She tried, I know she did, but she just didn't know what to do when a car would backfire and I'd be hyperventilating the next second.”  
  
“I didn't try talking to my wife,” Derrick informed them, speaking up for the first time. He gave a shrug, meeting Lexa's eyes, probably the only one not to have heard this before. “We lasted nine months after I got back before she told me she wanted a divorce.” Lexa's jaw clenched, thinking of Clarke and knowing she would never survive that happening to her. Before she could think on it too much, Atom let out a humorless scoff, pulling everyone's attention to him. “I drowned myself in booze to try to forget,” he admitted. “Thought that could help until it cost me my job. Been sober for four months now, but I still go home every night wanting a drink to wipe the memories away.”  
  
Lexa looked down, finding Skylar just playing with Doggie on her lap, not a care in the world. Her arm wrapped tighter around the little girl, causing her to look up, hazel eyes bright and a little mouth pulling up into a big grin as she stared up at the brunette. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss against her forehead, making the toddler let out a little laugh, before she pulled away. Heart pounding in her chest, she finally whispered, “I was fine. For years, I was fine.” Looking up, she found seven sets of eyes on her, all waiting patiently, giving her the time she needed to get it out. “I came home and moved on,” she continued, voice getting a little louder. “I married the woman I had never stopped loving, got a new job, started a family. I was fine. And then I heard some firecrackers on the Fourth of July, and I wasn't.”  
  
Slowly, pausing briefly now and then to control her voice or think about what she wanted to say, she got her story out. Not every piece of it, but the most important parts, the pieces she needed in order to truly explain why she was there, and it felt... well, not good, but better. Helpful. If felt like she was doing what she needed to, in order to finally be able to move on with her life, and as she finished speaking and the others around her began again, telling their own stories, offering her advice, a few even managing to lighten the mood every now and then with a joke, she thought that perhaps moving on didn't mean leaving her time in the Marines in the past. Maybe instead it meant allowing herself to remember and to feel and to accept all she had done and all that had been done to her. She didn't like it, and she could already tell it wouldn't be easy, but she had Clarke, and with her wife she knew she could get through anything.  
  
As the ex-soldiers around her continued talking, everyone sharing their own stories and troubles, she thought that maybe she now had another support group as well. It was too early to tell for sure, but the more those around her talked, the more she felt like perhaps this could work; perhaps Ryder and Clarke had both been right, and this is what she needed.  
  
Only time would tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! If anyone has any questions you really want answered about the story or characters, feel free to message me on my Tumblr, clarkethewanheda. I don't often reply to comments, but I try to reply to everything sent to me on Tumblr (I admit it can sometimes take a while, though, so please don't be offended if I don't answer right away). Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter Nine - Loss

_Three Weeks Later_

Death is always tragic, but sometimes it is also the cruelest of ironies.  
  
When Jake Griffin – husband to one of the country's top heart surgeons and father to one who will soon be known as a top trauma surgeon – when Jake Griffin suddenly drops one day at work, sweating and clutching at his chest, those around him panic. The ambulance is immediately called, and co-workers try desperately to figure out how to help him while they await its arrival. His heart gives out just minutes before it arrives, and no one knows what to do.  
  
Abby Griffin is at work at the time, at the very hospital he would have made it to in time if the universe didn't believe in such cruel jokes. When her phone rings, she doesn't expect it, doesn't think anything about it; it's one phone call she never dreamed she would get. As the words finally register in her mind, words that don't make sense as they crawl through the thick fog that suddenly clouds her head, the phone slips from her fingers, clattering loudly against the hospital's concrete floor. The files she'd been carrying fall along with it, papers floating through the air and scattering all around her. Later those who were near her at the time will swear they watched as all color drained from the surgeon's face, her color suddenly resembling that of the white-washed walls on either side of her.  
  
With no precursors, no signs of any kind before hand, Jake Griffin dies of a heart attack at work. He dies, and everyone who knew him think, the moment they hear the news, about how this has to be one of life's cruelest ironies of all time. 

***

Lexa could hear the television from her spot at the counter. As she packed baggies of apple slices and carrot sticks, Spongebob's laughter echoed through the otherwise silent kitchen, entirely out of place. The noise barely registered in her mind as she stared at the snacks, unable to really focus on anything. Her insides felt hollow, as though someone had cut her open and carved out everything that was supposed to be there, and now she was just numb. She remembered this feeling, this need to push the pain as far away as possible so that it couldn't hurt her, couldn't rip her apart like it wanted to, and she welcomed it. She welcomed the numbness as though it were a long lost friend, and allowed it to settle in place. Soon it would go away, either on its own or with her help, and she would feel the claws that waited to clasp at her heart, but not yet. Now she had to be the strong one, had to be the one who managed to hold herself together so that she could allow her wife to fall apart. And god, how she'd fallen apart...  
  
Clenching her jaw, Lexa pressed her eyes shut for just a second, shaking away the smallest trace of pain that had managed to get past her defenses. Opening them again, she got back to work getting the snacks ready, adding a little bag of crackers to the mix before carefully tucking them all away in Skylar's diaper bag on the counter beside her. Done, she took a quick inventory of the contents of the bag, and nodded once she confirmed she now had everything packed. Picking it up only to transfer over to the table instead, she left it there before making her way into the living room.  
  
“Hey guys,” she said softly as she walked in, eyes moving directly over to her three kids. Calvin and Tris both sat on the couch, their attention half on the TV and half on the toddler on the floor in front of them. Skylar seemed to have no interest in whatever Spongebob and his friends were getting up to, her entire focus on the big blocks in front of her. All three children were dressed in black, the outfits Lexa had picked out for them that morning. “You almost ready?”  
  
Calvin turned to her, hands fidgeting in his lap. “Yeah,” he answered, sliding off the couch. His mother could see uncertainty badly hidden in his eyes, and she watched as he began chewing on his bottom lip. “We're ready.”  
  
“What about Clarke?” Tris asked, eyes shifting to look at the ceiling above them, and Lexa tried to give them a little smile. “I'm going to go get her now,” she informed them, and then her own gaze followed the little girl's. Thinking about the blonde, her attempt at a smile wiped away, heart tugging painfully in her chest. Looking back at the three kids, her brow furrowed, and then she moved closer to them, kneeling on the floor near Skylar. “I need your help today, guys,” she told them softly, looking at Calvin and Tris. They both stared at her, completely focused. “This is going to be really, really hard for Clarke. Losing Poppa Griffin like this...” She trailed off, throat beginning to burn. Clenching her jaw hard, she forced the burn back, forced herself to keep going. “It's going to take a lot of time for her to feel better, and going to the funeral is going to make her really sad.”  
  
“Then why does she have to go?” Tris wanted to know. She'd never been to a funeral before, and didn't understand why they would go to something that was only supposed to make people sad. Lexa looked at her, clearly thinking her answer over, and reached out, taking the little girl's hand. Tris decided not to pull away, since she knew Lexa was already sad too. “Because funerals give us a chance to say good-bye to the person who died,” she finally answered. “Everyone who loved them can get together and talk about how much they loved that person, and how happy they were to have the person in their lives. It makes us sad because they aren't there anymore, but it also makes us happy because it gives us a chance to say good-bye and see how many other people loved them too. It helps us heal.” Tris's face scrunched up a little, clearly not sure whether that was a good enough reason to make yourself sad, but didn't say anything.  
  
“How can we help Mumma?” Calvin asked, brown eyes big and worried. Lexa reached out and wrapped her other arm around his waist, pulling him closer to her, and placed a light kiss on his forehead. “By being your wonderful selves,” she replied, managing to actually smile this time, even if it was small. “I just need you both to be on your best behavior today, okay?” They both nodded, and she pulled them in for another hug.  
  
“Me!” Skylar cried, grinning as she pushed herself off the floor and ran over to them. Almost unexpectedly Lexa let out a laugh as the toddler threw herself into the mix, the sound feeling wrong for this day.  
  
“You too, Skylar,” she agreed, hugging her as well. “I need you to be on your best behavior today as well.” The little girl's grin grew, big eyes flashing, and Lexa was glad at least one of them could be happy. Releasing them, she stood back up, eyes once again glancing at the ceiling, and any trace of smile she'd had fell away. Letting out a silent sigh, she began to mentally brace herself. “Alright, I'm going to go see if your mother is ready so we can go.” Tris opened her mouth to continue the same argument she'd been fighting for months now, but then her jaw snapped shut. She gave the brunette a look instead, raising her eyebrows as if to say, “I'll let it go this time,” and then turned to her sister. “Come on Sky, let's go get your shoes on,” she said, and then began to lead the way out of the room, Calvin with her.  
  
“Do not leave the house without Clarke or me,” Lexa called to them, already knowing that the door was locked, and saw Cal shoot her a look over his shoulder, rolling his eyes. “We know,” he replied, obviously offended she felt the need to say it out loud, and she just shook her head, the corners of her lips turning up. She followed them through the kitchen and into the hallway, grabbing the diaper bag on her way by, and then turned and began making her way up the stairs as the kids began to put on their shoes.  
  
The silence as she stepped out of the stairwell felt heavier, thicker up here than it had downstairs. It clung to her dress and skin, pulling at her until her own body felt heavy. A large part of her wanted nothing more than to go into her bedroom and wrap her arms around her wife and just let them fall back against their mattress, shutting the rest of the world away. She wanted to hold Clarke as she cried and try to comfort her, to offer her support by letting her just remain disconnected from the world. She couldn't do that though, and so fought to solidify her numbness as she made her way towards their bedroom.  
  
The door creaked as she pushed it open, peaking through it hesitantly. The last time she'd been up here had been a few hours ago, and Clarke had refused to leave the cocoon of blankets she'd had herself wrapped in for nearly twenty-four hours. Before she'd left she'd gone through their closet and picked out one of the blonde's black dresses and a pair of shoes to go with it, knowing Clarke wouldn't be able to do it herself. Now as she looked in, she found the other woman dressed, the dress falling halfway down her calves and the shoes on her feet. She sat on the edge of their bed, Panther curled up in her lap and purring while Pauna laid beside her, her head pressed as close to the blonde's thigh as it could. As Lexa stepped in, the dog looked up at her, her usual happy grin gone, and whined quietly.  
  
“Clarke?” Lexa called out softly, slowly moving towards the bed. “Are you ready? We need to go.”  
  
“I don't want to.” The words were spoken so quietly, so brokenly that they tore past Lexa's numbness and struck her like white-hot needles in her chest. Clarke didn't even look at her as she spoke, just continued to stare straight at the wall. Her make up was perfect, mascara not running or smudged, and in a way that only tore at Lexa more. Part of her thought it might be better if Clarke were a crying mess, but other than the day she heard the news, the blonde had barely cried. Instead she'd just closed herself in their room and buried herself in blankets, doing nothing but staring. She acted like the brunette always had when she was hurting, trying to detach herself from the pain and force it down until it numbed her completely, and that scared Lexa.  
  
“I know you don't,” she said, still speaking softly, as though she were afraid of scaring the blonde away. Slowly she walked over to the bed, and then knelt down in front of Clarke, reaching out and gently taking her hand. Running her thumb along the other woman's knuckles, she looked up, meeting blue eyes swimming in pain. “But you have to, Clarke. And I will be right here with you.”  
  
“I don't-” Clarke began to say, but then had to swallow thickly. Lexa could see the dampness building in her eyes, but the tears still didn't fall even as their eyes met. She scanned the blonde's face, trying to read everything there, and waited for her to continue. “If I go, then it's real,” Clarke finally whispered, voice breaking. “He'll really be gone.”  
  
“Clarke,” Lexa murmured, heart shattering beneath the raw pain she could see tearing her wife apart. Without bothering to think, she stood and wrapped her arms around Clarke's shoulders, Panther moving off of her lap in the process. The other woman's arms didn't come up to return the hold, but Lexa felt her press into her shoulder. She held her tightly for a long moment, before pulling back slightly, meeting bright blue eyes again. “I'm sorry my love,” she whispered, one hand moving to cup Clarke's cheek. She knew her own pain could be heard in her voice as she continued, and didn't bother to try to hide it. “He is gone, and now we have to say good-bye to him. I know it's difficult, but we must. But I'm here, Clarke.” She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to her wife's, fingers brushing gently against a pale cheek. “I'm right here. I will help you get through this. I promise.”  
  
The blonde's eyes closed, a single tear slipping down one cheek, and after a moment she nodded. Lexa's fingers itched to wipe the tear away but before she could Clarke was standing, jaw clenched and pain once again pushed back as far as she could push it. Lexa could see it slipping into her expression, snaking its way through the cracks in her walls to wind around her, but didn't say anything. Instead she let her fingers glide their way through the blonde's again, giving her hand a squeeze to try to remind her of her presence and support, a squeeze that possibly for the first time in their life together wasn't returned. Clarke's hand hung almost limply in hers, as though she couldn't gather the strength to return the grip, and once again Lexa felt her throat burn. Rather than say anything, she took a step forward, the other woman silently following along after her.  
  
The ride to the funeral home was silent. Lexa drove, glancing occasionally over at Clarke out of the corner of her eye, and knew better than to try to start any kind of conversation. The blonde sat almost too straight in her seat, as though if she allowed her muscles to relax even the slightest they might all finally collapse in on her. The three in the back didn't speak either, Calvin and Tris clearly picking up on the mood hanging over them and Skylar falling asleep after only a few minutes of the constant motion of the car. Even the radio stayed silent, neither Clarke nor Lexa wanting to taint any of the music they loved with this particular journey.  
  
By the time they pulled up to the funeral home, cars already lined the street. By some miracle Lexa managed to find a spot directly across from the building, and soon she was out of the car, ushering Calvin and Tris out while unbuckling Skylar and transferring the still-sleeping toddler to her hip, slinging the diaper bag over her opposite shoulder. While she got the kids, Clarke remained in the passenger's seat, staring ahead of her. Finally the brunette opened her door, reaching in and gently placing her hand on her wife's shoulder.  
  
“It's time, Clarke,” she murmured, voice soft. The blonde squeezed her eyes shut, lip pulling between her teeth as she bit down on it, and then finally she nodded. She let Lexa help guide her out of the car, let the other woman close the door behind her, and then turned towards the funeral home. Without a word she began forward, posture rigidly straight, and Lexa followed right behind with the three children.  
  
People milled around as they walked inside, countless pairs of eyes flickering over to them the second they arrived. Lexa adjusted Skylar on her hip, the little girl's face pressing against her neck as she continued to breathe softly, and looked around, searching the crowd for familiar faces. Many of the people there had been Jake's co-workers or friends, most of whom Lexa didn't know at all. A couple of faces were vaguely familiar, people she'd briefly met when meeting her wife at the hospital, Abby and Clarke's co-workers there to pay their respects. A few she recognized better than others, but at the center of the crowd she found someone she knew incredibly well, the only other person hurting as much as Clarke. Abby seemed to be surrounded, everyone wanting to pay the widow their respects, and she watched as the doctor forced herself to smile and nod, the look so far from meeting her eyes that even with this much distance between them Lexa could read her pain.  
  
“Clarke,” she said, getting her wife's attention and then nodding over to her mother. The blonde looked over to her, and Lexa noticed her jaw clench. She seemed to be debating whether or not to go over, until many of those in the room began descending on her, stealing the option from her. All at once a line of people wanted to talk to her, an endless stream of “I'm sorry for your loss,” and “He was such a wonderful man” repeating from one person after another, and Clarke had no choice but to stand there and nod, only half paying attention to any of them. Lexa stood beside her, refusing to leave her wife's side, but couldn't help glancing over at Abby whenever a slight break appeared in their own line. She caught the mother looking over at them, Abby's pain etched into the creases along her face, and suddenly she looked so much older than Lexa had ever seen her before.  
  
As the crowd of people only seemed to thicken around them with every new person arriving for the funeral, Lexa glanced down at Calvin and Tris. They both had hung back a little, Calvin nearly pressing himself against the back of her legs, Tris managing to maintain her tough exterior as she glared at everyone around them. Turning to them, the mother knelt down, shifting Skylar against her as she moved. The toddler had woken up a few minutes ago, but still hadn't taken her head out of the crook of her shoulder, clearly wary of the many people.  
  
“Guys, I believe there's a children's corner over there,” she told them, gesturing to the far side of the room where she knew a little nook was always set up for kids. “Why don't you head over there, and I will come and get you when the ceremony is about to start? You don't need to be out here with all these people.”  
  
“Kay,” Calvin replied, obviously relieved. He grabbed Tris's hand, about to pull her through the crowd, but stopped as the little girl frowned, looking at Skylar. As though she could read her mind, Lexa flashed her a small smile, telling her, “I will take care of Skylar, Tris. If she needs you, I will come get you. Okay?” The protective sister studied her for another second, finally giving a tiny nod. “Okay,” she agreed, and then let Calvin pull her forward, only looking back once before turning her attention to getting through the crowd.  
  
Behind her Clarke could hear Lexa talking with their children, but didn't turn around to find out what was happening. She couldn't, too many people trying to parade in front of her and tell her how sorry they were, but even that she couldn't seem to pay attention to. Her mind felt blurry, dull, as though everything were moving in slow motion. Nothing had felt right, felt real since her mother had found her five days ago, voice broken and hoarse from crying as she tried to get out what had happened. Her world had started spinning in that moment, too quickly for her to get her bearings straight, and she now no longer could tell what was up or what was down. All she knew was that at one moment she would feel completely empty, devoid of anything at all, and then the next she would feel a flood of burning sorrow pour through her, lighting her veins on fire. She wanted to do nothing but curl up in bed and shut out the entire world, but even then she knew she wasn't free from the pain.  
  
She'd been nodding and shaking hands so long without even noticing who was in front of her that when two hands clasped around hers, she had to refocus her eyes, re-set her brain to recognize who it was. When she did, her mouth dropped open, something other than sorrow breaking through the haze of her mind for the first time in days.  
  
“Wells!” she exclaimed in surprise, only a second before throwing her arms around his shoulders. Strong arms encircled her, holding her so tight that she couldn't breathe, but all she wanted was for him to hold her tighter. “W-What are you doing here?”  
  
“My dad called and told me what happened,” he answered, pressing his cheek against the side of her head. “The minute we hung up I booked a ticket on the next plane home.” He held her tighter, expression serious as he added quietly, “I know you never would have forgiven me for missing this. I never would have forgiven me.” She pulled back slightly, expression beginning to crumple and tears once again forming in blue eyes that just wanted to shut out the world. “He just... I can't... He-” she tried to say, tried to get out, but the words just wouldn't form. His grip on her arms tightened, her pain affecting him too, and then she felt a gentle hand fall on her shoulder. Glancing behind her, she found Lexa looking at her with eyes that seemed to understand everything she was feeling.  
  
“Go on,” she murmured, eyes flickering from Clarke to Wells. Nodding to a currently unoccupied corner of the room, she continued, “Go talk. I will take care of the crowd.” Wells flashed her a little smile and Clarke tried to do the same, the relief obvious in her eyes. Lexa gave her shoulder a small squeeze and then let her hand drop as Wells led them away, the crowd parting slightly as they passed.  
  
For long minutes Lexa continued to respond to the crowd around her, everyone seeming to know who she was even if she didn't know them. Apparently being the wife of the daughter of the deceased meant something, and everyone felt the need to give her their condolences almost as much as they did Abby and Clarke. With the blonde obviously not wanting to be disturbed in her corner, they all turned to the next best thing, surrounding her wife. Lexa did her best to reciprocate their words, all while trying to also keep an eye on not only her wife but also her mother-in-law. She was beginning to feel as though she were being pulled in too many directions when her backup finally arrived. She nearly let out a sigh of relief when she saw them walk through the door.  
  
Raven and Bellamy led the way, Emma and Jonas behind them and their parents bringing up the rear. Each were dressed in black, their mourning clothes immediately blending in with the sea around them, but even so Lexa didn't take her eyes off them. The group seemed to spot her right away, all moving towards her, and the brunette almost felt like letting out another sigh of relief until she got a better look at them all and that sigh turned into a hard pang in her gut. Octavia and Raven's eyes were both red, their make up clearly just touched up in the car before they came in, and she could see that even Bellamy's eyes were bloodshot. She didn't comment on any of it when they finally reached her, just held out her free arm. Octavia was the first to push into it, an iron grip circling her, but then Raven moved in right behind her, hugging her other side while being careful not to squish the toddler between them. The three stood there for just a moment, holding each other for strength, before they finally pulled apart.  
  
Glancing down at Emma and Jonas, Lexa forced herself to smile.  
  
“Hey guys,” she said, reaching out and ruffling Jonas's hair a little. Nodding to the nook her own kids had disappeared into, she told them, “Calvin and Tris are over there playing, if you want to join them.” They glanced up at their parents, Lincoln nodding to them as they did, and then they all but took off, clearly having no desire to stay around the sad adults. As they disappeared, Lexa looked back over to her friends, focus shifting to Bellamy as he asked, “Clarke?”  
  
“Over there,” she replied, nodding to the corner she still sat in with Wells. They all looked over, studying her, and Octavia asked quietly, “How is she?”  
  
Not entirely knowing what to say, Lexa shrugged.  
  
“She lost her father,” she simply answered, her own hurt just breaking through her tone. “She's hurting.” They all nodded, still studying the blonde, and then Bellamy stepped towards her. “I'm gonna go over, see if I can do anything,” he said, glancing quickly at the group. He ended on Lexa, meeting her eyes, and she nodded. “See if you can get her to drink some water,” she told him. “I don't know the last time she has.”  
  
“Got it,” he agreed, nodding again, and then took off, looking like a man on a mission.  
  
“What can we do?” Octavia wanted to know, pulling Lexa's attention back to them. All three stared at her, and she looked around, trying to think about what needed to be done. Eyes falling on Abby, she knew immediately.  
  
“Can one of you go to Abby?” she asked, seeing the woman still surrounded. “I have been trying to make my way over to her, but haven't been able to yet.”  
  
“On it,” Raven declared, not even waiting for another word before she was turning, walking straight over to the woman in the thickest part of the crowd. Lexa knew she wouldn't allow anyone to deter her from her mission, and could have let out another sigh, instantly relieved knowing that Raven would momentarily be by her side.  
  
“There's still a while before the ceremony is supposed to start,” Lincoln said, speaking up for the first time. “We'll help you with crowd control." Octavia nodded, immediately agreeing with her husband, and Lexa flashed them both a quick smile. As they turned to focus once again on the crowd and Skylar shifted against her, lifting her head to look around before returning it right back to her neck, Lexa's eyebrows lifted.  
  
“Where are the twins?” she asked, suddenly realizing they weren't with their parents, and Lincoln gave her a look. “We didn't think a funeral would be an appropriate place for them to be running around, so they are with my parents.” She nodded, about to say something, when someone she vaguely recognized from the hospital approached her, taking her hand and giving her a sad look as she murmured her condolences. With that the brunette's attention returned to the crowd, now much less stressed that she had some help. People continued to flock around her but now she had two others with her to accept the mourners, no one seeming to question them, and when she glanced over she found Raven at Abby's side, her mother-in-law looking slightly less overwhelmed with the younger woman with her. In the corner Bellamy and Wells had Clarke, the two clearly blocking her from the rest of the room, and Lexa finally felt like maybe she could breathe.  
  
“Lexa,” she heard about ten minutes later, a hand lightly grasping her arm, and without even needing to think about it it was her turn to break just a little. She turned and pushed herself against her father, his arms wrapping around her, and she felt his beard tickling her cheeks as she fought to keep herself from burying her face into the crook of his neck just as Skylar was doing to hers. “Dad,” she whispered, voice breaking a little, and his grip around her tightened. She let him hold her for a long moment, before she finally forced herself to break away, stepping back and looking up at him. “Thanks for coming.”  
  
“Jake was family,” he replied, his voice a little deeper than usual, and she knew being in the funeral home surrounded by mourners must be reminding him of past funerals, one specific one ever present in his mind. Those same memories had been pushing at her own consciousness all day, but she'd been fighting to keep it away. She couldn't be there for Clarke if she was busy missing her mother, and more than anything else she knew she had to be there for her wife today. Once again pushing those thoughts away, she simply nodded.  
  
Skylar's face shifted, poking out from where she'd been hiding against the mother's neck, and looked at the big man. Her lips curled up into a shy smile, one that Gustus couldn't help but return as he reached forward, gently patting the toddler's back. Her smile grew before she pressed her face against Lexa's neck again, and then the big man was looking around, searching the room for two other little figures.  
  
“Where are Calvin and Tris?” he asked, still scanning the room, and his daughter turned just enough to point to the far side of the room where the wall gave way to a small hallway. “There's a children's room that way,” she answered, switching Skylar over to her other arm as she spoke. “I told them they didn't need to be out here with all these people.” She frowned slightly, and then looked up, meeting her father's eyes. “Actually, would you mind going to check on them? I believe we will be starting soon.”  
  
“Of course,” Gustus replied, giving his daughter another brief hug. She flashed him a small smile and then immediately had her attention stolen by a man he doubted she had ever met before, tears in his eyes as he told her how sorry he was for her loss. Leaving her to her role as daughter-in-law of the deceased, he began to make his way across the room, those between him and his goal stepping quickly out of his way. Though the gentle giant his daughter had long ago dubbed him, there were some perks to being so big and intimidating, and one such perk was the fact that very few people ever stood in his way.  
  
Slipping out of the main room and into the space Lexa had indicated, he found a small area filled with puzzles, toys and children's books. A tiny table sat to one side of the room, four smaller chairs around it, and he found Calvin, Emma and Jonas at it, all working on a puzzle together. On the other side of the room Tris sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall and knees drawn up to her chest. Calvin looked up as he walked in, eyes flickering over to the little girl, and Gustus sent him a small smile and nod, clearly getting his message. He bypassed the puzzle and moved over to the other side of the room, looking at Tris and still smiling softly.  
  
“Do you not like puzzles?” he asked, trying to get her to look at him, but she just kept staring at her knees. She shrugged, the only response she seemed to be willing to make. One of his eyebrows ticked up, and then he moved next to her, sliding down the wall and joining her on the floor. He studied her, half expecting her to tell him to leave her alone or at least to look at him, but she did neither.  
  
“Tris, what's wrong?” he prodded softly, wanting her to open up and tell him whatever was bothering her, but she just shrugged again. He waited a moment, and then returned the shrug. “Alright,” he said easily, “You don't have to talk. I think you will find I am a very patient man. I can wait all day, if you need.” He didn't say anything else, just leaned back against the wall and waited. After raising Lexa, he knew better than to try to force her to open up. Like his own daughter, she would speak up when she was ready, when whatever was swirling inside her head had settled into something she could actually articulate, and not a moment sooner. It took a few long minutes, but finally his patience paid off.  
  
“D'you think my mom's dead?” Tris asked, knees still drawn up to her chest. Her arms were wrapped around them, almost casually, but Gustus knew the look of someone trying to hold themselves together. Briefly she glanced over at him, meeting his eyes, and then looked back at her knees. “Maybe that's why she hasn't found us. Cause she can't.”  
  
Gustus waited a moment to answer, going over his words carefully before responding. “I don't know, Tris. I don't know what happened to your mother, but I hope she is okay.” Tris stared past her knees, body curling in on itself enough so that she could rest her chin on them. Her arms tightened around her legs, hugging them tightly. “Me too,” she finally whispered. A single tear slipped down her cheek slowly, and Gustus felt his heart crack open a little as he watched it. “I know everybody hates her and thinks she's bad, but she isn't. She just gets sick a lot. It's not her fault.” She wiped her cheek against one knee, the tear smearing along the fabric of her dress, and then turned her head, looking at him. “She's not bad,” she repeated, trying to glare at him but not seeming to have the energy to do it justice. “She's not; she loves me.” The words tapered off into almost a question, and Gustus couldn't tell if it was him she was trying to convince or herself.  
  
Without thinking about it, Gustus reached out and pulled her over to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “I never met your mother, Tris,” he informed her softly, feeling her remain tense. “But there is one thing I know for sure about her, and that is that she loved you and your sister very much.” The little girl gave him a look, confused, but began to relax just slightly against him.  
  
“How do you know that?” she nearly demanded, and he just gave her a small smile. “Because I know you,” he answered. “I know you and I know your sister, and I know that it is impossible not to love you. I've only known you both for a few months now and I already love you, so I know your mother must love you both very, very much.”  
  
“Then where is she?” Tris whispered, her voice quiet and smaller than Gustus had ever heard it before. She looked away from him, trying to stop her voice from trembling. “Why didn't she find us yet?” His heart broke, hearing and seeing the effects the abandonment had caused to this little girl, and he felt himself hold her tighter. “I don't know,” he repeated softly. “I don't know. But until she does, Lexa and Clarke and the rest of us, we're going to take good care of you. That is another thing I am sure of.” She didn't have anything to say to that, not even any argument, so just remained quiet, letting the big man hold her. She didn't want to admit it to even herself, but it felt kind of nice being held. It kind of made her feel wanted, and even though she still didn't really know what to think about that, she allowed herself to settle into it, just for now.  
  
They remained like that, conversation dropping, until Lexa walked into the room a few minutes later. Her eyes scanned over the room, taking in every detail in barely more than a glance as she always did, and couldn't quite hide the momentary surprise of seeing Tris and her father sitting on the floor, one big arm still around her. She tried not to draw any attention to it, instead attempting to give them all a little smile as she informed them, “Come on guys, we're about to start. Emma, Jonas, your mom and dad are waiting for you.” The two jumped up and hurried out of the room, Calvin moving more slowly behind them. He moved over to his mother, reaching up and taking her free hand, and she squeezed lightly as soon as she felt his palm rest against hers. Gustus and Tris got up together, and as they passed Lexa raised her brow at her father.  
  
“Everything alright?” she asked quietly, glancing down quickly at her daughter, and he nodded. “For the most part, yes,” he replied, also quiet. When she continued to look at him he gave her a look that clearly read, “I will tell you more later,” and she gave in, letting it go for the moment. Together they all left the little playroom, making their way back out into the main area, and found people beginning to filter into the space where they would hold the small service.  
  
Lexa looked around, trying to find the head of blonde hair she knew she'd be able to pick out of any crowd, and found Clarke still in her corner, pale and staring at the open doors people were disappearing into. Wells and Bellamy were still with her, both looking uneasily around, unsure of how to prompt their friend forward. Squeezing his hand again, Lexa looked down at her son, nodding to her father as she transferred Skylar over to him as well.  
  
“Cal, go with your grandfather and sisters please,” she told him. “Your mother and I will be right in.” Calvin looked at her with wide eyes, fear tugging at his expression, but then he swallowed thickly and nodded. As she looked back up, she met her father's gaze. “Go on,” he said quietly, gesturing over to the blonde. “I have your children, you go to your wife.” She nodded and then turned, almost pushing past the few people still in the room to get to her love.  
  
By the time she made it over to her, she could tell that Clarke was on the verge of a break down. Her breaths came quick and shallow, and even though she stared right past her, Lexa felt sure Clarke wasn't seeing her. Bellamy and Wells both looked as though they were on the verge of panic as well, no idea what to do to help, and Lexa simply gestured behind her, not even looking at them.  
  
“Go,” she nearly ordered. “I have her.” They both nodded, shooting a final glance at the blonde, and then they left, neither Lexa or Clarke paying them any attention. Slowly moving closer to her wife, Lexa carefully reached up, hands lightly falling to Clarke's cheeks and turning her to look at the brunette.  
  
“Clarke,” she murmured, green eyes staring into blue that still couldn't focus on her. “Clarke, look at me.” As though they had to fight to obey, blue eyes slowly turned to her, finally meeting her own. “You are okay, Clarke,” Lexa continued, still keeping her voice low and calm. “I am right here.”  
  
“I, I can't do this,” the other woman stammered, head trying to shake even as Lexa held it gently in her grasp. “I can't go in there. I can't do this Lexa.”  
  
“Yes you can,” the brunette informed her, tone gentle but firm. A thumb brushed along Clarke's cheek, and her expression softened. “You can do this, Clarke. I know you can. You are so, so strong.” She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against her wife's, the one motion that always seemed to ground them whenever either couldn't control their emotions. Clarke closed her eyes the moment they made contact, but shook her head. “No Lexa, I can't. I can't... I don't want to say good-bye.”  
  
“Then don't say good-bye,” Lexa simply replied, gaze still focused on her when Clarke's eyes opened again. Both thumbs brushed against her cheeks this time, her eyes remaining soft as blue scanned them. “Go in there and celebrate him. Tell him you love him. He would not want you to say good-bye, anyway.” Clarke felt a fist clench around her heart, momentarily unable to breathe, but then just nodded. She could do that. She couldn't say good-bye, but she could tell him she loved him. As long as she had Lexa by her side, she could go into that room and tell her father everything he meant to her.  
  
Stealing herself another second, Clarke took a deep breath, reaching up and taking one of Lexa's hands. Only when their fingers were intertwined, her grip probably a little too tight, could she finally force herself to pull her forehead from the brunette's. Lexa stepped to the side and then they began making their way across the room together, Clarke's heart thudding painfully harder in her chest with every step she took. By the time they walked into the service area, they were two of the last ones left. Lexa led the way through the room, down the aisle between the many rows of chairs where friends and strangers sat, to the two saved for them at the very front of the room. Abby was already there, expression drawn as though she couldn't entirely believe what was happening around her, the two chairs beside her the empty ones for them, and then Calvin and Tris sat in the next two. Beside them sat Gustus, Skylar in his lap. The moment she saw the mothers, Skylar cried out, grinning, and reached up for them. Lexa reached out with her free arm, taking the toddler back from her father, and then the two women sat down. The moment they were sitting, Clarke's other hand found her mother's, grasping it just as tightly as her wife's. Immediately her mother returned the tight hold, and neither of them let go.  
  
As though everything had only been waiting for Clarke and Lexa, almost as soon as they were seated the service got started. Thelonius Jaha stood up, moving to the front of the room and greeted everyone, his expression drawn. As one of Jake and Abby's best friends, Jaha had asked to run the service, not wanting a stranger to be in charge of such a big task for such a wonderful man.  
  
“Thank you all for coming,” he said, standing up behind the podium that had been set up for the service. “My name is Thelonius Jaha. It is with great sorrow that I stand here today, but also with a heart full of love. Love for a man who knew nothing but love.” He turned, taking a long second to look at the casket set behind him, the top half of its cover open and the body of Jake Griffin on display inside it. Clarke couldn't look at it, and forced her eyes to remain glued on Jaha. “I met Jake during my sophomore year of college. We were lab partners for our chemistry class, and I quickly realized we would remain friends long after the class was over. Jake had a way of pulling people in, making them feel welcome, and once you were in you never wanted to leave. He was one of the kindest, most generous people I have ever met, and the world is a worse place without him.”  
  
Jaha continued, talking more about his friendship with Jake and his family, and then he invited others to go up and talk about him. The trickle of people started out small, but soon more and more were standing, so many people driven to say something about Jake Griffin. Clarke sat and listened, trying desperately to hold herself together as person after person told one story after another about her father and how much he had meant to them. Many of those who stood behind the podium would look at her, pity obvious in their expressions, and when they did she had to bite her lip to keep herself from screaming. She held onto her mother's hand and her wife's, tethering herself to them and using them to keep her in one piece. She wanted to scream and run and hide away, but instead she forced herself to sit still and listen to all these stories about her father.  
  
One of her father's coworkers sat down, a man she'd met off and on throughout her life, and then she heard someone in the row directly behind her get up and move. Glancing over, she bit her lip harder as she saw Bellamy move over to the podium, tears already gathering at the corners of her eyes before he even started talking. She'd somehow managed to hold herself together this long, the dam she had built almost as soon as she'd heard the news holding back her tears as it had done for days now, but knew that wouldn't last much longer. Bellamy stopped behind the podium, hands nervously fidgeting with his tie, and then settled into place, slowly looking out over the crowd.  
  
“The Griffins have been family to me and my sister for almost as long as I can remember,” he started, looking over at Clarke and just behind her, where she knew Octavia must be sitting. “My sister Octavia became friends with Clarke when they were in the fourth grade, and from that point on, we all kinda just clicked. I think after that I spent almost as much time at the Griffins' house as I did at my own.” His mouth pulled up into his lopsided grin, but Clarke could see the emotion building up in his eyes, and felt her breath catch. “There are some people who wouldn't always want a bunch of kids hanging out around their living room. But not the Griffins. Jake and Abby made it clear from that first day we were always welcome.”  
  
He had to stop, his voice beginning to break, and Clarke could see the tears forming in his eyes before he squeezed them shut. His hands had been resting on the podium, as though to ground himself, and she watched his knuckles turn white as he gripped the hard wood. Clearing his throat, he looked up again, forcing himself to continue.  
  
“I never really knew my father,” he said, voice thick with badly concealed emotion, and Clarke had to grit her teeth, the first tear falling. “He's never been a part of my life. But after Octavia met Clarke, I no longer felt like I didn't have one.” He turned, looking back at the coffin, and wet tracks began to slowly appear along his cheeks. “You took us in,” he said directly to the body in the coffin, speaking as though Jake were there and listening. “All of us, you and Abby took all of us in, giving us the parents we didn't always have. You both loved us when you didn't have to, and you made it look so effortless. I'll never... never really be able to describe just how much that means to me. You loved me, and you loved my sister, and even if I tried for a hundred years, I'd never be able to pay either of you back for that.” Again he stopped and let out a wet chuckle, the sound somehow broken and whole all at the same time. “I never told you this, but you're the man I want to be. You taught me what it really means to be a man and I... I'm going to work hard every day, to be a man who you'd be proud of.”  
  
For a moment his head ducked, chin tucked into his chest as the tears continued to fall, and then he stepped away from the podium, having said all he could. As he moved back over to the crowd of chairs, Abby stood up, Clarke following immediately behind her, and Bellamy seemed to gravitate towards them. Abby's arms opened and he walked right into them, holding her tight as she held him close. Both were crying, their tears falling in silence rather than sobs, and Clarke saw her mother's mouth curl up in a watery smile.  
  
“He was proud of you, Bellamy,” Abby whispered, only loud enough so those near her could hear it. “He was so proud of all of you. You're all family, and you'll always be family. He wouldn't have had it any other way.” Bellamy let out a wet chuckle, the sound slightly muffled against her, and then he was pulling back, nodding. Abby gave him a final squeeze and then let go, and he turned to Clarke. The blonde threw her arms around him, not needing to say anything for either of them to understand that family was never made up of just blood. He held her in a tight grip, wishing he could wipe away both their pain but not knowing how to, and she returned it, letting the hug say everything for her. This time when he pulled away he just met her eyes, squeezing her arms one final time, and then he moved away from them, returning to his seat.  
  
Abby sat then, settling back into her chair, but Clarke remained standing. Nobody else moved, the entire room seeming to hold its breath as everyone waited to see what would happen next. Her mother had told her she wouldn't need to say anything, could just remain a part of the crowd if it was too painful to talk, but she'd known she couldn't do that. She wanted to, wanted once again to find a place to hide away and pretend this was all just a bad dream she could wake up from, but she knew she couldn't. This was her father, and she knew she couldn't just sit while everyone else talked about how much he meant to them. She had to speak up, even if just the thought of moving to that podium was making it hard to breathe.  
  
Everyone in the room waited, complete silence surrounding them, and finally Clarke forced herself to take the first step. She could feel her body physically fighting with her, trying to get her to sit back down, but made herself continue forward. Taking the ten steps it took to move from her chair to the podium was the hardest thing she'd ever done before, and now she had to do something even harder. Podium now in front of her, she just stared at it for a second, lost in her grief, and then felt her eyes close.  
  
“There are... a million things I could say,” she finally began, opening her eyes and looking out over the crowd. “About my dad.” She spoke softly, her voice raw with emotion. She tried to hide it at first and then stopped, needing to let herself get this out. “I could tell you about his horrible singing. Or his bad jokes.” She gave a shaky smile as a couple of people let out a small chuckle, and then kept going. “I could tell you how he, he always seemed to know the right thing to say. How he could make anything fun. How he... how he loved to laugh. How, how he was just always so happy. So happy to be alive and s-surrounded by people who, who loved him. I think everyone, everyone who ever met him loved him. Because... Because who wouldn't love a man, a man like him?” She paused, tears now freely falling, and had to hold back a sob. Looking down at the podium, hands clenching into fists as they rested against it, she tried to force herself to move on. Everyone sitting in front of her watched her, tears in many of their eyes as well, and she could hear a couple of people openly sobbing, the quiet cries breaking through the otherwise silent room.  
  
“My dad is-” her breath caught in her chest and then she looked up again, clenching her jaw stubbornly. “My dad was always there for me. Every major event in my life, no matter what it was, he was always right there, supporting me and cheering me on. He, he taught me never to stop fighting for, for what I wanted. He taught me that life is hard, but it's, it's so worth living. Most of all, he taught me that as long... as long as you h-have love, have people in your life to... pour your heart into, then you're lucky. You're lucky and you have to, have to hold on to them.” She had to swallow, had to force down another sob, voice rough and breaking as she forced out the next part. “Because you, you don't know how long you have together. You don't know when, when something will h-happen to t-tear you apart. You just don't know.” The sob broke then, the noise small but audible, and she had to bite her lip, closing her eyes again as her head tilted down towards the podium.  
  
A little cry from the crowd tore her attention away from her own grief, and she immediately looked up, eyes darting directly to the tiny person who had made the noise. Skylar sat on Lexa's lap in the front row, wriggling around and swatting at the hands trying to hold her in place. Her eyes were on Clarke, little brow drawn and eyes bright, and the mother could see the surprise on Lexa's face as the toddler continued to wriggle, slipping down her legs and finally out of her arms. Little feet landed on the floor and she didn't wait, toddling quickly towards the podium. Lexa looked like she was about to get up to catch her, but Clarke beat her to it, stepping out from behind the podium and meeting Skylar halfway. She knelt down, the little girl throwing her arms around her neck and latching on, and the blonde sank into the hold. Her own arms wrapped around the tiny toddler, gently lifting her up, and she didn't look away, completely ignoring the audience watching. Skylar leaned back in her grasp, seeming to study the woman for a second, and then reached out, hand touching a wet cheek.  
  
“No ky,” she stated, patting Clarke's cheek. “No.” She leaned forward again, mouth pressing against the spot where her hand had just been. Despite her best efforts, the motion did nothing to lessen the flow of tears and instead it increased them, but now Clarke found herself smiling as she cried, a surprised laugh tumbling from her lips. Glancing up, she met first Lexa's eyes and then her mother's, finding the same smile pulling at their lips and wet trails along their cheeks. Grief still lingered, still tugged at all of their hearts, but now something else made Clarke stand up tall, facing the room and crowd in front of her.  
  
“My dad was a lot of things,” she continued, slipping back into her speech as though nothing had happened, but now she spoke with a new strength to her voice. “He was a friend that anyone would be lucky to have. He was a husband who loved his wife more than anything in the world. And he was... he was the best dad a girl could ever have. He taught me what it means to be a good parent.” She looked at Calvin and Tris sitting between Lexa and Gustus, Calvin obviously trying not to cry and Tris looking uncomfortable, and then down at Skylar still staring at her in her arms, and her smile grew even as more tears fell.  
  
Holding the little girl close, she turned around, breath getting caught in her lungs as she walked up to the casket, eyes finally falling on the still figure of her father. He didn't look right in there, didn't look like himself with his eyes closed and mouth straight instead of the usual grin that had always seemed to tug at his lips, but for a second she could see past that. For a second she caught a glimpse of him when he was younger and would chase her around their yard or tickle her into submission whenever she tried to argue with him. She saw the man who had read her bedtime stories and scared away the monsters in her closet and stood up at her high school graduation with tears in his eyes. She saw the man who looked at her on her wedding day as though he couldn't believe that day had arrived and couldn't be happier, and then the man who had nearly started crying again when they told him they were in the process of adopting a child and he was going to be a grandfather. She saw the person who had always believed in her and had rooted for her every single day of her life, and she felt the burning in her throat grow to an almost unbearable degree. She smiled and she cried, remembering her father, and she said the only thing left to say.  
  
“I love you, Dad, and if I can be even half as wonderful a parent to my kids as you were to me, I know I'll have done something right. Thank you for just... just being you. I really... really love you for that. I really love you Dad, and I'm... I'm going to miss you. May we meet again.” She took another long moment to look at him, desperately wishing it wouldn't be the last time but knowing it was, and then turned around, slowly walking back towards the crowd. She held Skylar close to her, as though it were the toddler giving her the strength to move, and didn't let go of her as she settled back into her seat. Her mother leaned over, resting her forehead against the side of her head and closing her eyes, a couple of tears falling on her shoulder, and Lexa laid a gentle hand on her leg, her own form of silent support. Clarke just sat there, trying to drown herself in the love around her, and let her eyes shut, tears still managing to slip past and run down her cheeks.  
  
Hers was the last big good-bye, and Jaha stood back up at the front of the room, wrapping up the service. Slowly people began to stand, a few trickling out of the room, others just moving into small groups. For a few minutes Clarke managed to remain where she was, surrounded by her family and friends, and then they started to be picked off one by one, somebody wanting to speak with them or needing help with something. Her mother was the first to be pulled away, first by a couple of friends once again offering her their condolences and then by the director of the funeral home, and Raven went right along with her as though she had no plans to let the older woman out of her sight. Octavia and Lincoln took their kids in search for the bathroom and then disappeared for a while, likely getting caught in a conversation with strangers they couldn't get out of. Co-workers and friends of their family began making their way over to her, and soon Clarke found herself swept away from her seat, once again having to listen politely as people continually reminded her of her loss with their kind words and pitying looks. She held herself together better this time than she had before, using Skylar as her anchor as the little girl tried to play with her necklace, but could have let out a sigh of relief when she looked around and realized people were finally starting to leave. She felt heavy, weighed down by her grief, and just wanted to go home and cry some more.  
  
A gentle hand pressed against her back and she felt herself lean into it. The hand slid down to her waist, wrapping lightly around her, and she felt her eyes close as Lexa pressed her lips to her temple. She turned into her wife, resting her head along the brunette's shoulder.  
  
“Can we go home now?” she whispered, the words almost too quiet for even Lexa to hear. The other woman's grip on her tightened and then she nodded, her free hand moving up to push a few strands of blonde hair from Clarke's face.  
  
“We can,” she agreed softly. “If that's what you want. It is getting late anyway.” Blue eyes glanced out the windows to find it had already started to get dark, and she returned the nod, picking her head back up and looking around the room. Even more people had left and now only a few stragglers remained, two of them currently saying good-bye to her mother. As Clarke watched, Raven met her eyes and detached herself from Abby's side for the first time that evening, making her way over to them. Before she could say anything, Raven's arms were around her, holding her in a hard hug and only partly squishing Skylar between them, Lexa stepping back to give them some space. The toddler giggled and Clarke wrapped her free arm around the other woman, holding her just as hard as she turned in to the hug. Neither let go for more than a minute, and when they finally did Raven only pulled back far enough so that she could look at the blonde.  
  
“I'm gonna take Abby back to the house,” she informed her, her voice scratchy, and that told Clarke all she needed to know about how her friend was doing. Raven gestured over to her mother, still looking at the blonde. “I'll stay with her as long as she needs me to. I came with Octavia and the family, so it all works out.” Clarke nodded, the burning in her throat growing again.  
  
“Thanks Raven,” she told her, squeezing her grip on the other woman's arms a little tighter. “I really appreciate it.” Raven tried for her signature smirk, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. “Yeah well, you know, it's no big deal,” she replied, before the smirk entirely wiped away. Her eyes got all watery and Clarke watched her fight to swallow, waiting for her to get out what she clearly needed to say. Tone more serious than she could ever remember hearing it before, Clarke felt her own emotions growing once again as Raven managed to get out, “Clarke, Poppa Griffin, Jake, he was... Nobody was better than him. He was just... You were right, he was just the best father anybody could ever want. We all... We all really loved him.”  
  
Seeing the tears beginning to fall from the corners of her eyes, Clarke pulled her back into another hug. “He loved you too, Raven,” she murmured, understanding exactly what her friend was feeling, what she was dancing around but not quite saying. “He was always proud to have you as part of the family. Always.” She felt Raven take a sharp breath, her grip getting momentarily tighter, and then she released her, pulling away and wiping away a tear or two as she tried to flash the blonde a shaky smile. “Thanks,” she mouthed, no sound actually coming out, and Clarke just nodded, returning the smile with tears of her own.  
  
“Hey,” they heard, and both turned to see Octavia, Bellamy and Lincoln now standing with Lexa a few steps away, Lincoln holding Jonas as the little boy's head rested against his shoulder, asleep. Looking past them, Clarke found Emma sitting in some big chairs at the side of the room with Calvin and Tris, all three clearly bored and more than a little tired.  
  
“We have to get going,” Octavia continued, moving over to her two best friends. Gesturing back at Lincoln, she explained, “We have to go pick up the twins from Lincoln's parents.”  
  
“Sure,” Clarke immediately agreed, turning to her. “Yeah, of course.” Octavia studied her face for a second and then it was her turn to pull the blonde in for a tight hug, her grip fierce as she held on to her friend. “I'm so sorry Clarke,” she just whispered, voice raw with emotion. “I'm just... so sorry. This shouldn't have happened. It isn't, isn't fair and it shouldn't have happened.”  
  
“I know,” the blonde agreed, heart tugging painfully in her chest. Those same words were the ones that had been swirling over and over in her mind for days now, and it felt both good and bad to hear them spoken out loud. She held on to Octavia, squeezing her eyes shut for just a moment, trying to control her rage over just how unfair it all felt. “Thanks, O.”  
  
Octavia pulled away, and then it was Bellamy's turn to wrap her in a hug, and just like with the others, she immediately returned it. “If you need anything Clarke, just call,” he informed her. Stepping back, he looked down and met her eyes, expression entirely serious. “We're all here for you.”  
  
“I know you are, Bellamy,” she replied, giving him a small smile. “And it means a lot to me. Thanks.” He mirrored her smile, and then stepped back and Lincoln stepped forward, studying her for a moment before hugging her.  
  
“You will get through this, Clarke,” he assured her. Meeting her eyes, he nodded, as much to himself as to her. “You will. And your friends will be here to help whenever you need it.”  
  
“Thanks Lincoln,” she murmured, fighting to get the words out past the lump that had reappeared in her throat. He nodded once, gripping her arm lightly, and then moved back to his wife. Octavia took his hand, squeezing it, and then turned towards their daughter. “Emma, come on, time to go,” she called, and then looked at Raven. “You're sure you're all set?”  
  
“Yeah, I'm good,” the other woman replied. Before either of them could say anything else, they all heard a tired voice say, “You really don't have to come with me, Raven.” The entire group turned to find Abby approaching them, her eyes red and bloodshot. Exhaustion and grief pulled at her features, but even so she tried to show them a smile, the gesture making it nowhere near her eyes.  
  
Raven shrugged, crossing her arms as her lips quirked up, trying to be her usual playful self.  
  
“Uh uh, you're not getting rid of me that easy Mama G,” she replied. “Like it or not, you're stuck with me for a little while.” Abby flashed her another attempt at a smile, clearly too tired to try to put up any kind of fight, and just gave in.  
  
Clarke stepped over to Lexa, carefully transferring their daughter to the other mother, and then moved directly to her mother. Their eyes met, unspoken words going back and forth between them, and then Clarke closed the gap, wrapping both arms around her mother. Abby returned the hold, eyes falling closed, and for a moment allowed the facade she'd tried to maintain throughout the day to fall away. They didn't say anything as they held on to each other, not needing to in order to share the other's grief. Those around them looked away, knowing this was a private moment even if it was being had in the center of the room.  
  
“You don't have to go back if you don't want to,” Clarke offered quietly when they finally began to pull away. Meeting her mother's eyes, she continued, “You know you're welcome at our place, for as long as you want. You don't have to go back to that house if you're not ready to be there.” They both heard the word neither wanted to say. _Alone._  
  
“I want to go back,” Abby assured her, tone quiet but certain. She reached up, cupping her daughter's cheek and brushing away the tear streak running down it. “It's my home. It's our home, the one that he and I built together. I need to be there.” Clarke nodded, understanding even though it hurt her to even think about the home she had grown up in. “Okay,” she just agreed, falling into another hug. “But call me if you need anything. Anything.” She could feel her mother's lips turn up into a small smile before they pressed against her cheek. “I will Sweetheart,” she promised, and then she pulled back just so that she could place her hands on either side of her daughter's head, tilting it down enough so she could press another kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Clarke,” she breathed, everything coming out in those few little words, and Clarke squeezed her eyes shut, chest aching. “I love you too, Mom.”  
  
For another few seconds they stood together, latching on to the other's strength, and then they pulled away and everyone seemed to move at once. Abby grabbed her daughter's hand, giving it a final squeeze, and then she and Raven made their way out of the funeral home, the younger woman giving Clarke a nod before slipping out behind her mother. Octavia and her crew followed right behind, each of the three adults giving the blonde one last hug before they left, and while they did Lexa went over to their children, herding them together. She said her good-byes to her father while Clarke found the Jahas, thanking Thelonius for all he had done for the service and Wells for making it back in time. She held on to her oldest friend for a beat longer as her family moved over to her, and then pulled away, trying to give him a small smile and only partially succeeding. She hugged Gustus, her father-in-law whispering his own words of strength in her ear as she did so, and then they finally left, no one saying anything on their way to the car. The ride home was just as silent as the ride there had been, Clarke completely drained both physically and emotionally, and everyone else not knowing what to say.  
  
It was a quiet evening once they got home. Lexa fixed everyone sandwiches for dinner and they ate in the living room, a movie on that the kids paid attention to and the adults didn't. Clarke tried, no longer completely lost in her haze of grief, but couldn't ignore the ache that still remained in her gut, her mind continually flashing back to what she'd lost. Lexa didn't try, glancing at her wife every few minutes, aware that just because the service had ended didn't mean Clarke's mourning had. The movie ended and no one had to say a word, everyone getting up and heading up the stairs for bed. The mothers split up as usual, Clarke going first to Calvin's room and Lexa going to the girl's room, tucking the kids into bed as they said goodnight. They then switched, each going into the other room, and when Lexa walked in she found Calvin still sitting up, fidgeting with his blanket.  
  
“Hey bud,” she murmured, giving him a smile as she walked over to him. Sitting on the bed she reached out, letting her hand fall over his. She could see something brewing in his eyes, and gave his hands a little squeeze. He looked up, meeting her gaze, and her smile softened. “What are you thinking about?”  
  
His brow furrowed as he looked away, biting his lip before opening his mouth, but for a second nothing came out. “Poppa Griffin was Mumma's dad,” he finally said, slowly meeting her eyes again. She nodded, frowning, uncertain where this was going, and he continued. “That's why she's so sad.” Again she nodded and his eyes dropped to his lap, staring at their hands. She felt his fingers curl into fists, gripping at his blanket, and the crease in his brow deepened further. “I don't... I don't think I'd be sad,” he admitted quietly. “If my dad died. I don't think I'd be sad.” He glanced up then, looking at Lexa through his eyelashes, and she saw guilt flash across his face. “Does that make me a bad person?”  
  
“Oh Cal,” Lexa let out in a breath, and then she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her son and pulling him close. He latched onto her, grip so tight she could feel him pinching her skin, and she only held on tighter. “No,” she whispered, one hand moving up to run fingers soothingly through his curls. “No, it doesn't make you a bad person. Not at all.” He nodded against her but didn't let go for a long minute, so she just kept running her fingers through his hair. When he finally did pull back, he gave her a sheepish look and she returned it with a small smile, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his forehead.  
  
“Come on,” she simply said, standing back up and grabbing his blankets. “Let's get you tucked back in.” He laid down and she pulled the covers up over him, giving him another kiss to the forehead. “Goodnight Cal,” she murmured, reaching out and brushing a stray curl from his face. “I love you.” He yawned, exhaustion now hitting him, and he nodded, eyes closing as he turned into his pillow. “Night Ma,” he replied, and then his lips pulled up into a small smile. “Love you too.”  
  
She turned off his light and then quietly made her way out of the room, pulling the door mostly shut behind her so that only a small crack of light from the hallway filtered in. Looking up, she saw that the door to her own room was already partially closed, and knew that Clarke must have finished saying goodnight to the girls already. Moving towards it, she took in a deep breath, knowing that they still likely had a long night before them.  
  
Stepping into the room, she found her wife already in bed, her dress and shoes left in a pile on the floor. She'd wrapped herself in one of Lexa's sweatshirts, bare legs tucked up against her chest and arms wrapped around them. Lexa didn't hesitate, only took a second to slip her shoes off her feet before she climbed into bed beside her, not caring about her dress enough to take it off. The moment she sat on the mattress, Clarke turned into her, laying down and resting her head against the brunette's lap. One hand moved to her head, running her fingers soothingly through blonde hair just as she'd done to brown curls a few minutes ago, while the other rested lightly against Clarke's shoulder. Neither said anything, just allowed the silence to spread around them.  
  
“How long?” Clarke finally asked, her voice breaking, and Lexa pretended she didn't feel the damp spot on her thigh from her wife's tears. She didn't have to ask Clarke to clarify what she meant, and just let her head fall back against the headboard, fingers still running through blonde hair.  
  
“You'll never stop missing him,” she answered honestly, voice quiet. She felt Clarke nod slightly, heard the sharp intake of her breath. “But the hurt will subside. It will take a while, long enough that you think it will never go away, but one day you will think about him and it won't hurt. You will think about him and be able to smile instead of cry.” She felt Clarke turn in her lap, and glanced down to find blue eyes staring up at her, their pain tugging at her heart. Her hand moved, finding Clarke's, and her fingers slipped between the other woman's, each sliding so easily in place. “And I will be here,” she continued, brushing her thumb along the back of the blonde's hand. “I will be right here.”  
  
“I know,” Clarke replied, voice raspy from crying. She pressed her face lightly against Lexa's thigh, closing her eyes. The fabric of the dress creased beneath her cheek, and her eyes opened again, glancing at the black. “Your dress is going to get wrinkled,” she stated, and watched as Lexa simply shrugged.  
  
“It isn't important,” she told her, not taking her focus from Clarke's face to so much as spare a glance at the dress. “I would have to move to take it off, and I have no desire to do that. I'm right where I need to be.” The blonde felt her heart clench, but she gave Lexa a watery smile. Fingers once again returned to skimming through her hair while Lexa's other hand continued to hold hers, and she felt herself sink against her wife's lap. Her smile melted away, thoughts once again storming her mind, and her grip tightened against the brunette's fingers.  
  
“I keep thinking about my mother,” she whispered, glancing up and meeting patient green eyes again. “Alone in that house. I don't... I don't think I could do it. If, if I lost you, I don't think I could...” She trailed off, heart picking up its pace in her chest. Old fears mixed with her current grief, and panic began to bubble up her throat.  
  
“Hey,” Lexa murmured quickly, immediately recognizing the shift in her wife's demeanor. Gently she pulled Clarke up, the blonde straddling her lap, and one hand rested along her cheek. “Stop that,” she continued, voice gentle. “I'm right here, Clarke.” Pulling their clasped hands towards her, she twisted them carefully, placing the back of the blonde's hand against her chest. Eyes skimming across her wife's face, she repeated quietly, “I'm right here.” Clarke stared at her hand, clearly feeling her heartbeat against her skin.  
  
“I need you, Lexa,” she nearly stammered, the panic only partially pushed away. She didn't know why she was suddenly so afraid, just knew that imaging her mother alone after so many years of having her father with her had triggered this desperation. “I can't, can't lose you.”  
  
“Shh.” Green eyes skimmed along her face, soft and understanding, and then she felt Lexa's other hand move to the back of her neck, lightly pressing against it. She followed the push and then their foreheads were together and Clarke felt like she could breathe again, the tightness in her chest loosening a little. “I'm not going anywhere, Clarke,” she heard Lexa whisper, her breath brushing against her lips. The blonde reached up, burying her fingers in long brown locks, and nodded. She held on to Lexa, feeling her breath against her skin and heartbeat beneath her hand, and allowed more tears to slip down her cheeks. Her grief was far from over, the pain of losing her father still raw and festering, but as long as she had Lexa, she knew she would get through it. Lexa was her strength, had always been her strength, and together she knew they would survive this.  
  
Together she knew they would survive anything.


	10. Chapter Ten - Unexpected Encounters

_Three Years Later_

Glancing in the rear-view mirror, Lexa couldn't help but smile at the look on her youngest daughter's face. Skylar was looking out the window, watching all the houses and traffic go by as she chewed on her bottom lip. Even without looking for more than a second, the mother knew she was nervous.  
  
“Are you still excited?” she asked, speaking over the music quietly playing from the radio. Skylar jumped a little as she looked forward, smiling slightly as she nodded. “Yeah,” she answered, voice quiet, and Lexa rose her eyebrows as she looked back in the mirror. “It's okay to be nervous, you know. I know you're gonna have a lot of fun, but it can be kind of scary going to a new place and meeting new people. Remember how nervous you were when you started preschool? And now you have made a lot of friends and love being there.”  
  
“Yeah,” the little girl repeated, her smile a little more genuine. “I love school. It's lots a fun. And I getta see Jennie too. She's my best friend!” Lexa smiled back at her daughter, even as she turned into an unfamiliar driveway, quickly putting the car into park and turning off the ignition.  
  
Preschool had started a little over a month ago, and while Skylar had been nervous about it at first, it hadn't taken long for her to grow to love it, especially once she met Jennie. That first afternoon once she came home all she could talk about was her new friend and since then they'd only grown closer. Most days rather than just picking one girl up from preschool Lexa was picking up two, Jennie going over to their house for the afternoon while her single father worked. She was over so often that at times it felt more like they had four kids rather than just three, but Skylar was so happy to have a best friend that none of her family seemed to mind. Loud and outspoken and always full of energy, Jennie seemed to have taken Skylar under her wing and was slowly pulling her out of her shell, the perfect yin to Skylar's quiet yang.  
  
Which is how Lexa found herself here, stepping out of the car before turning to help Skylar out behind her. Everyone had been surprised a few nights ago when Skylar had suddenly asked if she could join Jennie's dance class, telling them that her friend had asked her to and told her it would be a lot of fun. Clarke and Lexa had questioned her about it, getting as much information out of the little girl as they could and then done some of their own research before agreeing, and the next day Clarke had called and signed her up at Tapping Toes Dance Studio. Now Lexa grabbed a tiny pair of ballet flats from the seat next to Skylar and took her hand, helping her out of the car and trying not to laugh as her youngest daughter immediately picked at the wedgie her new leotard had given her. Together they made their way through the parking lot crowded with cars towards the front door, a colorful sign hanging above it which read, “ _Tapping Toes Dance Studio_.”  
  
Opening the door, Lexa took a quick look around the crowded studio. Seven little girls were inside getting ready to start their class, a couple already sitting on the floor attempting to do their stretching while the others sat next to parents helping them get their dance shoes on. Music was already playing, fairly quietly at the moment and almost hidden beneath the sounds of voices and running feet. Along the far wall a ballet bar had been set up with mirrors behind it so that everyone could see what they were doing, and when Lexa saw her own reflection staring back at her she felt her adrenaline start pumping. In the flash of a second she felt like she was seventeen again and walking into her own dance class, the music even similar to what she had played for her own three, four and five year olds. Nostalgia hit her all at once, and she could almost feel her muscles waking up as though from a long sleep. A pressure wrapped tightly around her hand and she nearly shook her head, trying to push the feeling away. Skylar pressed lightly against her leg, suddenly shy with all the new people and noises around her, and Lexa squeezed her hand.  
  
“Come on,” she said, flashing an encouraging smile down at her daughter, “Why don't we get your shoes on?” Skylar just nodded, still pressing herself close, and the brunette led her over to an open space at one of the benches lining one wall of the room. She had Skylar sit down and then began removing her sneakers, but just before she could slip the first ballet flat on her foot she heard over her shoulder, “Skylar!” The little girl's face immediately brightened and she jumped up, running over to her friend and giving Jennie a hug barefooted.  
  
“Sky, your shoes,” Lexa called, turning around to find the two together. Her daughter gave her a sheepish grin and then held out one hand, telling her proudly, “I can do it!” Holding back a smile, Lexa nodded, lightly tossing both flats over to her, and then sat on the open spot on the bench, watching as Skylar sat down, Jennie talking excitedly beside her already dressed for the class.  
  
Sitting back, Lexa slipped her phone out of her pocket, unlocking the screen. She'd felt it vibrate while driving, and checked now to find a text message from Ryder. Typing out a quick reply that yes, they would still be coming to the VA that afternoon, she didn't really pay much attention as the kids around her still getting their dance gear on rushed out onto the dance floor. She glanced up only to find Skylar and Jennie still talking, the corners of her lips turning up, before she looked back at her phone, deciding it was as good a time as any to check her email. Deleting the twenty percent off message she'd received from the local clothing store – why Clarke always had to use her email to sign up for things, she would never understand – she paid little attention when the door opened again and the children all quickly lined up, Skylar following right behind Jennie as her friend grabbed her hand.  
  
“Alright class, let's get started,” a voice called out lightly, and Lexa frowned, her forehead furrowing. Something about the voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. She locked her phone again, letting it rest in her lap as she looked up. With her back to her, Lexa had to look into the mirror to see the woman's face, and the moment she did she froze, eyes widening. After almost twenty years she may not have recognized the voice right away, but she immediately knew the face.  
  
“Everybody, we have a new student joining our class,” Costia, the ex-girlfriend who at one point in Lexa's life had crushed her in a way she thought she'd never get over, told them all, looking at Skylar. The young girl shrunk back a little, trying to hide behind her friend. “Can you tell the class your name, honey?”  
  
“Skylar Griffin-Woods,” Sky mumbled, glancing over to the bench to make sure her mom was still there. Briefly managing to hide her shock, Lexa forced herself to give her a shaky smile, even as Costia simply continued to smile at the little red-head. “Welcome to Tapping Toes Skylar, we hope you have fun with us. I'm Ms. Greene.” Sky nodded stiffly, still obviously feeling nervous, but then smiled when Jennie squeezed her hand. “We always start with some stretches so we don't hurt ourselves while we're dancing. We just gotta make sure our bodies are ready to move like we're gonna ask them to. Everybody hold on to the ballet bar.”  
  
The kids all moved to do as they were told, and as they did Costia pulled her attention away from them just long enough to look into the mirror, and as though she knew she was there, Lexa watched as her eyes almost immediately were drawn to her. She saw a flash of confusion pull at the other woman's brow before a spark of recognition appeared in her dark brown eyes, and Lexa knew she'd just recognized her too. Costia's jaw dropped open for the briefest of seconds before snapping shut, eyes glancing to Skylar and then back again, putting two and two together. Eight little faces turned up to her, patiently waiting for her to tell them what to do, but for a short moment she couldn't speak.  
  
“O-Okay,” she finally got out, forcing herself to look away from the woman behind her. “Get ready to tap your toes girls. One two three four five six seven eight...”  
  
Countless times during the hour long class, Lexa found herself somehow making awkward eye contact with the dance teacher. At first she tried to look anywhere but at the other woman, to the point where she found herself staring at one of the walls for a solid five minutes, but doing so meant not being able to watch her daughter either. Trying to watch the dancers meant seeing the teacher was simply inevitable, Costia constantly moving from one girl to the other and correcting a stance, straightening a wrist, or giving a reminder that ballerinas don't pick their nose while they dance. Lexa almost grinned at that last one, remembering the number of times she'd had to say the same thing when she taught her own class, and in that moment Costia just happened to look up, meeting the brunette's eyes. Her lips curled up into a small, almost secretive smile, clearly knowing what Lexa was thinking, and without realizing it she felt herself returning the look. The next moment one girl stepped on another's foot and the teacher's attention returned back to the class, leaving Lexa wondering exactly how she'd ended up here. She hadn't thought of her ex-girlfriend in more than a dozen years and now she was her daughter's dance teacher.  
  
The hour ended, and Costia stopped the music. “Okay girls, great class today! I'll see you all next week.” She smiled at them all as they grinned back at her, and then a stampede of little girls all rushed over to where their parents still sat on the benches.  
  
“Did you see me?” Skylar asked, eyes shining as she ran to her mother. Her hands fell to Lexa's lap, briefly squeezing her knees in her excitement. “I was dancing!”  
  
Lexa let out a small laugh before leaning forward, wrapping her arms around her daughter's shoulders. “You were,” she agreed with a nod. “You did very well. Did you have fun?” Sky nodded, so quickly the motion was little more than a blur. “Ahuh! Can I do it again next week?” The mother looked past her daughter, seeing Costia busy talking with one of the other parents, no indication at all that her ex-girlfriend sat in the room or that there was anything awkward going on. “I... If you wish to keep dancing, then I don't see why not.” Skylar's smile grew even more, her little cheeks turning pink in her excitement.  
  
“Sky!” they heard, and both turned to see Jennie beside them. The girl's eyes flickered to Lexa, expression not changing at all. “Hi Mrs. Griffin! Thanks for letting Sky do dance with me!” Lexa returned her smile, telling her, “You are very welcome, Jennie.” With nothing more than another flash of upturned lips, the little girl grabbed Skylar's hand, pulling her away from the mother and over to where her own bag of street clothes laid beneath the bench, already chatting away. Watching the two friends move away, Lexa gave a little shake of her head, amused. Focus shifting away from them, her eyes happened to catch Costia's as she naturally scanned the room, and that amusement transformed into awkward nerves. She could tell the other woman was finishing her conversation, her eyes darting to her every few seconds, and Lexa allowed her mask to fall over her face, hiding away all of the uncertainty she felt. Pushing herself up, she stood and took a few steps away from the benches where everyone seemed to be gathering, unsure exactly what might be said in this conversation but knowing she didn't care to have it in front of others.  
  
When Costia finally turned away from the other mother, she made her way over slowly, her own uncertainty flashing in her eyes. She seemed to study Lexa as she closed the space between them, hesitating as her gaze swept over the other woman. Lexa studied her right back, and while she certainly wasn't sixteen anymore, she couldn't say that age had done anything to lessen her beauty. At one point in her life the brunette hadn't thought she'd ever met anyone as beautiful as this woman, and time had only seemed to add to her looks, sophisticated grace settling in where youthful arrogance had once been.  
  
“Lexa,” she said, the awkwardness of the moment obvious in her tone. “Hi. I uh, I didn't realize you were Skylar's mother.”  
  
“I wasn't aware you were going to be her dance teacher,” Lexa replied, feeling equally as awkward. “My wife signed her up, so you wouldn't have known I would be here.”  
  
“Your...” Costia trailed off, glancing down to the brunette's left hand, for the first time noticing the band she almost never took off her finger. Lexa felt herself stand a little taller almost subconsciously, the memories of exactly how the two had ended things so long ago flashing quickly through her mind. She remembered the girl's laughter, painful in its lightness, as though everything about what they'd been was no more than a joke, and the cut of her tongue and painful sting of her words as Costia had told her what she truly thought about the girl she'd spent her time toying with. Now she looked up, eyes a little wide, but the same cruel judgment that had been in them when they were younger was nowhere to be found.  
  
“Congratulations,” she just said, once she'd found her voice again. “Yes, that would explain it. It's, it's good to see you again.”  
  
“It's good to see you again as well,” Lexa lied, still not entirely sure how she felt about this unexpected reunion. She thought Costia might be lying as well, but couldn't tell for sure as one corner of the woman's lips turned up into a small smile.  
  
“So what-” she began, but before she could continue whatever she was going to ask their attention was pulled to the other side of the room.  
  
“Mama, can Jennie come over tomorrow?” Skylar asked even as she crossed the room towards them. Lexa looked over her head to the other little girl, finding her father there and helping her put on her coat, grinning as he met her eyes and gave a little shrug. The mother returned his grin with a small one of her own and then turned back to her daughter. “Maybe,” she answered, making Skylar pout and her own grin grow a little more. “I will talk about it with your mother when she gets home and we will let you know. Okay?”  
  
“O-kaaay,” Skylar mumbled, deciding to wait until later when she could beg her mothers together. She turned around and waved at her friend when she heard her call her good-byes, once again smiling from ear to ear, and watched her until she'd left the studio. Almost as soon as Jennie disappeared out the door she looked back up at her mom. “Time ta go?”  
  
Lexa nodded, even as she gestured to the woman standing beside her. “What do you say to Ms. Greene?” she asked, and the little red-head gave the teacher a sheepish look, suddenly shy again. “Thank you Ms. Greene,” she told her, stepping close to her mother, and she nearly looked away when her new teacher smiled at her brightly.  
  
“You're very welcome Skylar, and welcome again to our dance class. We're really happy to have you,” Ms. Greene replied, and even as she returned the teacher's smile with one of her own she pressed up against her mother's leg. She felt a comforting hand fall gently to her shoulder, holding her close, and turned her face into her mother's thigh.  
  
“We should be going,” Lexa said to Skylar, watching her daughter's shyness take back over now that her friend had left. She felt a little head nod against her leg and soothingly ran her hand over her back, doing her best in the moment to make sure Skylar felt comfortable. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Costia's mouth open as though to say something before she glanced down at the little girl, catching herself before whatever it was got out.  
  
“Would you... Could we maybe get coffee sometime?” she finally asked quietly, looking away from Skylar and meeting green eyes as Lexa turned back to her. “I just... I'd kind of like to catch up. If you'd be willing to, that is.” The other woman studied her for a second, thinking over her answer, before she nodded once, and immediately she saw relief flash across Costia's face. “Thank you,” she said, “You have my number so I'll just, I'll wait for your call.” Again Lexa nodded, not entirely sure she should be agreeing to this, but it was too late. Skylar's grip around her leg tightened and without another word she let her daughter lead her back over to the benches where they quickly traded her ballet flats for sneakers.  
  
“Can I show Ryder and everyone what I learned?” Skylar asked excitedly as they made their way back to the car, her shyness almost immediately melting away as they left the studio full of strangers. Lexa flashed her a smile as she shrugged. “I bet they would all love to see you dance,” she agreed, unsurprised when the little girl's face split into a big smile. She got her daughter strapped back in her seat, Skylar humming the song they'd been listening to throughout the class to herself, and then they were off to the VA Center.  
  
The entire way there while Skylar hummed in the backseat Lexa's mind whirled, wondering how the last person from her past she'd ever expected to see again was now suddenly a part of her life once more. 

***

“Skylar seems to love her new dance class,” Clarke stated, grinning as she settled down next to her wife on the couch, a glass of wine in one hand. All their youngest daughter had been able to talk about all night was the class and how much fun it was, to the point where Tris had decided it was better to walk around with her ears plugged than listen to one more word of it. Even as they'd tucked the girls into bed all she could ask was when they'd be going back to the studio, and Clarke had just laughed when Tris threw her covers over her head and begged her to turn off the light so Sky would finally stop talking.  
  
“Mm,” Lexa agreed, wrapping an arm around the blonde's shoulder. “Though I'm not yet sure whether it is the dancing she loves or simply the fact she gets to spend more time with her friend.” Clarke raised her eyebrows, nodding in agreement, before taking a sip of her wine and letting out a sigh, glad to finally be able to relax after a long day. She closed her eyes, basking in the peace of the moment. Lexa leaned lightly against her wife, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye. She hadn't yet had an opportunity to tell Clarke about who Skylar's teacher was, not wanting to talk about it with any of their children there, and for some reason felt anxious because of it. She had no idea how she would take the news, but was pretty sure it wouldn't go well.  
  
“I admit, I was shocked when I met her teacher,” she began, hoping to ease into it. Clarke's eyebrows rose again, her eyes still not opening as her head tilted over, resting against the other woman's shoulder.  
  
“Why?” she just asked, her body turning slightly into Lexa's. “Ms. Greene wasn't what you were expecting? Was she actually Monty's cousin or something?” She felt herself smile at her own joke. When she'd first heard the woman's name she'd laughed, joking about how ironic it would be if the woman were related to Monty considering he was one of the least coordinated dancers she knew.  
  
“No, she is definitely not Monty's cousin,” Lexa answered. Fingers rubbing nervously against her palms, she added lightly, “I do know her, though.”  
  
Clarke's brow scrunched up, her eyes finally opening. Pulling back just enough so she could look at her wife she asked her, “What do you mean you know her?”  
  
“I mean I know her,” Lexa repeated, and then frowned. “Well, I knew her. I suppose I don't know her anymore.” Clarke's eyes narrowed, seeing the hesitancy in the other woman's eyes. “You, what, were in the same dance class or something?” The brunette nodded slowly, saying, “There was a time we were in the same dance class, yes.”  
  
“Lexa...” the blonde warned, pulling even further back, scanning her wife's face and trying to read whatever it was she wasn't saying. Warning bells were going off in her head, and already she felt her pulse picking up, something stirring in her gut she couldn't yet put a name to. Lexa's eyes met her own, holding steady but a little uncertain. “Costia,” she finally answered, “Costia is Skylar's dance teacher.”  
  
For a second Clarke didn't move, couldn't seem to do anything but sit there and stare at her, dumbstruck. The next instant she was up, her glass of wine placed a little too roughly on the small table by the couch, and she disappeared into their office without a word. “Clarke?” Lexa called after her, shifting on the couch, uncertain what she was doing or whether she should join her. She sat there, stuck in a state of not knowing whether to get up or stay where she was, until the blonde marched back into the room, her laptop balanced on one arm while she furiously typed at the keyboard.  
  
“No,” she growled, tone dangerously low, glaring at her screen. “No.” Lexa waited, not sure what she was looking for, until Clarke's expression darkened. “She never used her first name!” she almost shouted. Moving over to the brunette and thrusting the laptop at her, she repeated, “She never used her first name!” Lexa's eyes quickly scanned the web page she'd been looking at, finding _Tapping Toes Dance Studio_ scrawled along the top, “Run by Ms. Greene,” written below it. The site talked about the different styles of dance she taught and the various ages, but Clarke was right, Costia's first name was never mentioned.  
  
“Is that strange?” Lexa asked as she glanced up at her wife, unsure whether they should have expected to find it there.  
  
“I don't know!” Clarke exclaimed, closing the laptop a little more forcefully than Lexa thought was entirely good for it, before she tossed it onto the couch. “But if she had we would have known better!” Clarke's hands flew up in the air before falling down to her sides and clenching into fists. “If she'd used her actual damn name Skylar never would have been allowed to join her class and you wouldn't have had to see her again!” She began pacing, eyes shooting daggers as she stared in front of her.  
  
“Clarke,” Lexa tried to get her attention, but the blonde was beyond listening at the moment. “She's not going back,” she declared. “Skylar's not taking classes with _her_.” Lexa's brow rose, watching her wife pace.  
  
“Sky loved her class,” she reminded her, eyes following her movement while her body remained safely on the couch. She had learned long ago about Wanheda's fury and knew it was better to sit back and stay out of the direct line of fire when it flared up. “We can't tell her she can't go back.”  
  
“Yes we can,” Clarke insisted, voice harsh. “If she still wants to dance we can find her another teacher. Hell, you could teach her. You know just as much as that woman does.”  
  
“We don't know that,” Lexa replied simply, deciding she needed to remain calm in order to help the blonde calm down as well. “Costia may have gone to school for dance; it's entirely likely if she's a dance teacher, so it is very possible she knows more than I do. Plus I haven't danced in years. Besides, we both know the main reason Sky wants to dance is because Jennie's in the class. Telling her she can dance but we need to find her a new teacher is silly, unless you plan to try to convince Jennie's father to pull her out of this class as well.”  
  
Clarke rounded on her, eyes narrowing. “How can you be so okay with this?” she demanded. “After what Costia did to you, how can you seriously even be considering letting our daughter take classes with her?” Lexa didn't let her look intimidate her, instead simply shrugged.  
  
“What happened between Costia and I was a long time ago,” she answered easily. “I haven't thought about her or what she did to me for years. Many years, in fact. Yes she hurt me, both with her words and with what she did, but that was high school. Early high school even. We were young and she was cruel, but I got over it.” She reached out then, grabbing her wife's hand and pulling her closer. “I met you and learned what I had believed was love for Costia was nothing more than mere infatuation. A bad crush. It wasn't until you and I were together that I realized what it felt like to truly love someone.” She could feel Clarke's tense grip loosen slightly, her words clearly getting to her. “In fact,” she added, smiling a little as an eyebrow quirked up. “Really I should thank Costia. If she hadn't dumped me, I may have still been dating her that first summer at camp and you and I may never have gotten together.”  
  
“We would have,” Clarke argued, her tone steely in its certainty. She closed the distance between them, climbing on the couch and straddling Lexa's lap, her free hand cupping the brunette's cheek, grip firm but still gentle. Her eyes once again scanned her face, but this time along with the anger Lexa saw entirely different emotions swirling in them. “I don't care what might have happened with her, there's nothing in the universe that could have stopped me from falling in love with you.” Lexa's smile grew, even as she let out a small laugh.  
  
“Clarke, we had been going to school together for years,” she reminded her. “We had to leave our home and spend time away together at camp to even truly speak to each other. What makes you so sure we would have ended up together on this couch if our histories had not gone exactly as they did?”  
  
“Doesn't matter,” the blonde answered, giving a small shake of her head. “It doesn't matter that we only really started talking at camp; I was always going to end up with you, Lexa. If there is one thing I was born to do it's love you, and nothing was ever going to stand in the way of that.” Lexa felt her heart swell in her chest, emotions burning and swirling inside her, so many she thought perhaps she may finally burst apart with her love for the blonde sitting in her lap, but somehow she managed to hold herself together, that love only made obvious by the light in her eyes and the tightening of her hold around the other woman's waist.  
  
“I believe I was born to love you as well, Clarke,” she admitted softly, watching as the lips she spent more of her time thinking about than she cared to admit out loud curled up into a soft smile. She nearly leaned forward to press her own against them before she remembered the entire point she had been trying to make. “But since we are both very aware how much we care for each other, why is it a problem if Skylar continues to go to Costia's dance class? I haven't had any feelings for her since before we graduated high school.”  
  
Clarke let out a single, humorless laugh. “Lexa, I'm not worried about you loving her or anything like that. I just don't want you to have to see this person who hurt you so much. And honestly, I'd rather keep her hate away from our daughter. Skylar doesn't need to be around anyone who once called her mother a dyke.” Lexa thought about that moment in her life, how much it had hurt when the person she had cared about so much had hurled the word at her all while some guy had his hands all over her. That image worked against the woman she'd seen today, all awkward looks and small smiles.  
  
“I don't think she is the same person who did that,” she replied slowly, the two images a contrast in her mind's eye. “When we talked after, she didn't seem unhappy to see me, just surprised. She even asked me to get coffee with her at sometime.”  
  
That made Clarke's eyebrows shoot up, the corners of her mouth turning down just a hair. “And what did you say to that?” she wanted to know, and Lexa gave her a shrug. “I agreed,” she answered, meeting blue eyes as the blonde's jaw clenched slightly. “I saw no reason to refuse. Perhaps it will be good for us to talk.”  
  
“Or maybe she's looking for another chance to show the world how homophobic she is,” Clarke muttered darkly, rolling her eyes when Lexa gave her a look. “I don't like her, Lexa. I don't like her, and I really hate that she's suddenly in our lives. In your life.”  
  
“Do you really want to take Skylar out of the class?” Lexa asked, frowning. If Clarke truly wasn't comfortable with this she would agree, but she knew their daughter wouldn't understand why they were doing it. The blonde let out a defeated sigh, as though she'd just heard an argument she couldn't refute, and released her wife's hand, letting her arms drop to the other woman's shoulders and leaning into her.  
  
“No,” she grumbled, voice sullen. “That would just upset Sky, and that's not fair to her.” Lexa reached up, fingers gently gripping her chin, and tilted her head to force her to meet her eyes. “This is not a big deal, Clarke,” she insisted, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yes Costia hurt me in my past, but I'm too happy in my present to even think about it. Her presence back in my life will not change anything.” The blonde gave a stiff nod, willing to let this argument go but clearly not happy about it.  
  
“When are you getting coffee?” she asked, glancing down at her wife, and she felt her left arm raise as the brunette shrugged her shoulder. “I don't know,” she answered honestly, “I will call her tomorrow to plan something. Probably later this week.” Again Clarke nodded, but this time Lexa watched as something new flashed across her face. Without any warning she swooped down, capturing her mouth in a hungry kiss, stealing all the air from Lexa's lungs. Both of her hands moved to cup her face, her grip a little more forceful than usual, and the brunette's arms wrapped around her waist, almost as though she needed something to hold on to. Clarke didn't pull away for a long moment, the kiss only seeming to grow more heated the longer they remained connected, and when she finally did she left no more than a few centimeters of space between them.  
  
“Mine,” she claimed, her grip on Lexa tightening slightly, nowhere near painful but certainly territorial. Her forehead pressed roughly down, meeting the brunette's, and Lexa nearly gulped when she saw the fire burning in blue eyes. “Just mine.”  
  
“I-I thought you weren't worried about any romantic feelings I might still have for her?” she stammered, unable to quite catch her breath after that kiss. Clarke shook her head, never pulling further away. “I'm not,” she insisted, voice a little lower than normal. “I know how much you love me. Doesn't change the fact that you're mine.” Lexa's lips parted to reply, but whatever she was going to say died as Clarke pressed forward again, capturing her wife's mouth in a kiss no less powerful than the first. She could practically feel the other woman melting beneath her, and only kissed her harder.  
  
“Your wine,” Lexa tried when Clarke finally allowed them air again. She wanted to gesture over to it where the glass still waited on the end table, but couldn't bring herself to shift even the slightest bit away from her wife. “You said all you wanted to do this evening was relax with a nice glass of wine.” The blonde's lips curled up in a mischievous smile, letting her weight begin to pull her to one side, Lexa's grip behind her never loosening and in turn moving with her.  
  
“The wine can wait,” she said, continuing down until her back hit the cushion, Lexa's arms trapped beneath her as she now knelt over her wife. Leaning up as though to start another kiss, she pulled away just as Lexa moved towards them, a teasing glimmer now in her eyes. “First I want to remind you why you're mine.”  
  
“I am yours for many reasons, Clarke,” Lexa managed to get out even as she felt every nerve in her body begin tingling as one of the blonde's hands started to slip slowly down between them. “And that is all I will ever want to be.” Blue eyes met her own, now less teasing and more sincere, bright with the affect her words had on her love, and Clarke let the space between their lips disappear, their bodies easily falling together in the rhythm they'd spent nearly twenty years learning. 

***

“Thanks for agreeing to this,” Costia began, breaking up the awkward silence that had settled between them almost as soon as they both sat down. Lexa gave her a little nod, barely a tilt of her head. “Of course.” The silence stretched out once again.  
  
“You look good,” the dance teacher tried, gesturing at the brunette with the hand not holding tight to her coffee. Again Lexa nodded, this time giving a little more as she replied, “Thank you, you do too. Have you been dancing all this time?” Costia's eyes lit up, happy to see the conversation might finally be really going somewhere, and nodded.  
  
“Yeah,” she answered, “After high school I decided to study it in college. I figured it was the only thing I really enjoyed doing, so I might as well make a life out of it. What about you? Do you still dance?”  
  
“No,” Lexa replied, giving a small shake of her head as she turned her cup of tea around in her hands, the only fidgeting she allowed herself. “Not outside of weddings and other special occasions, at least.”  
  
“That's too bad,” Costia said, elbow resting on the table and chin resting in her open palm. She watched the other woman, smiling a little as she added, “You were a great dancer, definitely one of the best ones in our class. It's a shame to forget talent like that.” Lexa shrugged. “I still enjoy it, but it isn't what I wanted to do with my life.”  
  
“So what did you do with it?” she asked, leaning forward a little in her curiosity. Lexa met her look, telling her, “I went to school and joined the military. I was a lieutenant in the US Marine Corp for about six years.” Costia's eyes widened, not expecting that answer at all, and Lexa watched as she sat back a little, as though trying to take in more of the woman sitting across from her.  
  
“Wow,” she breathed, “Yeah, that's definitely something.” Her head cocked to the side before she asked, “Why'd you leave? If you don't mind me asking, I mean.”  
  
“I got hurt and had to come home,” she answered simply, seeing no reason to provide anymore reason than that. Again Costia's eyes widened, scanning over her quickly as though looking for the injuries, but before she could ask anything else she continued, “It worked out well that way. I came home and soon after Clarke and I got married. Not long after that I became a police officer.”  
  
Lexa wasn't sure if the other woman's eyes could get any wider or be anymore surprised, and she just took a small sip of her tea, waiting for her to process this new knowledge. “Well that's... That's definitely a busy life,” she finally said, giving a little shake of her head. “First a lieutenant and now a cop.”  
  
“I was a detective, actually, but I quit about three years ago,” Lexa corrected her, and then in response to the questioning look she received explained, “When we adopted Skylar and her sister, we realized they needed more than what we could give them with our work schedules. My wife is a surgeon, so I decided to quit my job.”  
  
“Quitting detective work to be a stay at home mom, huh?” Costia asked, and then tilted her head, studying her. “I don't know, it's hard to see you choosing that.” Without so much as a beat Lexa met her look, telling her honestly, “It is one of the best decisions I have ever made. I enjoyed my work, but my family comes first. Being a mother to our three children is the greatest thing I've ever done.”  
  
Afraid she might have overstepped, Costia quickly backpedaled. “Oh yeah, sure, I get it, the kids absolutely come first. It's just, I don't know, I guess it's just hard to imagine someone working so hard and doing what you did just to let it all go.”  
  
“My kids needed me more than I needed that job,” Lexa replied simply, and the other woman gave a quick nod. Lifting her cup back to her lips with one hand as the other rested against the table, she asked behind it, “Do you have any children?”  
  
“God no,” Costia let out in a light groan. When the brunette's eyebrow ticked up, she quickly explained, “Not that I don't love them, don't get me wrong. I'd love to be a mom, it just, it hasn't happened for me.” She glanced down at her coffee cup, gripping it tighter before adding, “I just recently got out of a messy divorce. I do love kids, really, but I'm glad I didn't have any to drag through that.” Lexa nodded in sympathy, a small frown tugging at her lips.  
  
“I'm sorry,” she said, and Costia shook her head. “No, don't be,” she replied, feeling the ball of nerves that had been growing in her gut shift up to her chest. “It just... It was never really right. We tried to make it work for a while but we... I... I was never really... in it, the way he was. I just didn't... feel the way he did.”  
  
Understanding flashed across Lexa's face, realizing what she wasn't quite saying. “I see,” she replied quietly. “Well I hope you are happy now, at least.” Costia gave her a half smile, one corner of her mouth tugging up a little. “I am,” she said. “Or happier, at least. I've never felt more like, I don't know, myself I guess, than I have lately. It's... nice.” Lexa's smile was soft, understanding as she agreed, telling her, “Life is easier, once you accept yourself. Even in the moments when it becomes harder.” That ball of nerves buzzing in her chest shifted into something else, and the next thing Costia knew she was fighting back tears even as she gave the other woman a watery smile.  
  
“Yes,” she agreed. “It is.” The next moment her smile fell away, the guilt she'd felt for so long wracking through her and now obvious in her expression. “Lexa, I'm,” she began, and then blew out a long breath, eyes falling closed. When they opened again, she met a green stare, the other woman patiently waiting, and she licked her lips. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered, voice nearly breaking. “What I did... It was horrible. I never should have treated you the way I did, or said what I said. I think I was caught between liking you and hating you for it, so I decided the best thing to do was to hurt you. I was awful, and I entirely understand if you hate me for it. I hate me for it.”  
  
Lexa studied the other woman for a second, her guilt easy enough to make out in dark eyes that almost flinched away when she met them. Nothing seemed to guard her expression, her emotions written across her face, and from each the brunette could tell she meant what she said.  
  
“I don't hate you,” she told her, her voice almost quiet, almost soft but not quite there. She watched Costia's eyes scan her face in surprise, and continued, “I haven't hated you for a long time. What you did hurt, yes, and I can't say it didn't affect me, but I got past it. I moved on.”  
  
Costia nodded slowly and then let out a little sigh. “Sometimes I,” she began, pausing for a moment and then continuing. “Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't been afraid back then. If I had accepted everything and we had stayed together.” As she finished, one hand reached out, gently laying over the hand still on the table, and she flashed the brunette a soft smile.  
  
Glancing down at the hand suddenly on top of hers, Lexa frowned. Fingers grasped lightly at her hand, the pressure light but not the touch she was used to. Looking back up she could see something else in the woman's eyes now that her guilt seemed to have subsided slightly, and she slowly pulled her hand away.  
  
“Costia, I'm sorry if you think the two of us meeting is something it isn't, but I'm happily married,” she said, fingers skimming lightly over the band around her left ring finger. “You may wonder what would have happened if things had been different between us when we were younger, but I do not. Clarke was always the one I was meant to be with; I could never do anything to jeopardize that.”  
  
As soon as Lexa began pulling her hand away, a light blush appeared along Costia's cheeks, becoming more powerful as the other woman spoke. The dance teacher's hand fell from the table, shifting nervously in her lap, as she looked down, barely able to look anywhere but at her coffee.  
  
“Of course,” she replied quickly, speaking almost before Lexa had even finished. “I didn't mean... I shouldn't have...” She cleared her throat, eyes finally flickering up and meeting Lexa's. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. You're happily married, I shouldn't have implied anything. Clearly you love your wife very much.” Lexa's expression softened a little, looking down at the ring on her hand, and Costia felt a spike of jealousy hit her, something she knew she had no right to feel.  
  
“I do,” the brunette replied easily, the corners of her lips pulling up as she studied her wedding band. “I still have days where I can't believe I got so lucky.” The spike of jealousy flared up a second time even as Costia tried to stamp it out, making herself smile as the other woman looked back up at her. “Which is how I know I would be a fool if I did anything that might hurt my wife.”  
  
“You would be,” Costia agreed while thinking about how big a fool she'd been almost twenty years ago. “You're lucky you found her.” Lexa nodded, fully agreeing, and another awkward silence descended on their little table.  
  
“I hope that our past and... this... won't affect Skylar joining the dance class,” Costia finally said, glancing at the woman across from her. “She seems like a sweetheart, and I think she really enjoyed her first class.”  
  
“She did,” Lexa confirmed, and then added, “And it won't, don't worry. Everything that happened between us is in the past; there is no reason to let it affect the present.” Costia nodded, a pang of regret spiking through her, but kept it hidden away, not letting it show as she gave her ex-girlfriend a smile. “Good,” she agreed, “I'm really happy to hear that.” The smile becoming more authentic, she leaned forward again, asking, “Does it make you miss it, though? Dancing, I mean?” She couldn't help but notice the way the other woman's lips curled up into a small smile, even before she gave a reluctant nod.  
  
“It does,” she admitted, thinking about how her body had felt as she stepped inside the dance studio. “I don't regret anything, but I do miss dancing. It meant a lot to me, growing up.”  
  
“You're welcome to come use my studio every now and then, if you'd like,” Costia offered, before taking a sip of her drink. She gave a little laugh then, grinning as she told her, “Actually, I teach an adult class; you might like to come to that sometime and help me teach it. It may have been a while, but I have no doubt you'd still be able to blow them all away.”  
  
Lexa's smile grew even as she shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but I don't think I would be able to find the time. My schedule is a little full with school and play dates and hockey practice.” Her brow furrowed then, before she took her phone out to look at the time. “Speaking of, I actually have to run and pick Skylar up from pre-school.” She stood, her chair sliding back behind her, and looked at the table and woman still watching her, and felt herself smile again. “But this was nice. I'm glad you suggested it.”  
  
“Me too,” Costia agreed, mirroring her movement while she ignored another little pang of regret in her gut. “And the offer's there, if you ever find time. My studio could always use another dancer.” Lexa nodded, mostly just to be polite, and then stuck out her hand between them.  
  
“Thank you, Costia,” she simply said, her other hand still holding tightly to her coffee. “I'll see you next week for Skylar's class.” Costia reached out and clasped the brunette's, her palm itching where their skin touched. “You're welcome, Lexa,” she replied, making sure to keep her voice even and expression clear as she spoke. “See you then. And, and thank you. For, you know, forgiving me.” Lexa nodded again and then withdrew her hand, turning around and leaving the little cafe to go pick her youngest daughter up from school.  
  
Costia watched her walk away, wondering not for the first time how she could have been so dumb as a teenager and push her away. She wasn't sure she'd ever entirely stop regretting it. 

***

Clarke pulled into the parking lot carefully, finding people already leaving the dance studio and getting into their cars to head home. She knew the class must have just ended, and quickly killed the engine before getting out of the car and making her way into the studio, flashing a smile to the few people she passed on her way. Today was Skylar's third dance class at Tapping Toes but this was Clarke's first time at the studio, having readily agreed to pick up their youngest as soon as she got out of work so that Lexa could go to the VA alone today. She knew her wife loved taking Skylar and Skylar loved going, but Clarke also knew there were some things Lexa refused to talk about with their daughter there, and sometimes she needed to get them out. She was happy to step in whenever she could, and this time even more so.  
  
Stepping inside the studio, Clarke took a look around. It looked like she imagined most dance studios would: mirrors along one wall with a ballet bar, benches lining another wall, and a sound system in the corner for the music that still played lightly in the background while the families still there put their street clothes on over their dance clothes or even simply changed their shoes. Parents knelt, helping their kids, and Clarke's gaze scanned over them until she found the three familiar faces she'd been looking for.  
  
“Mummy!” Skylar exclaimed, leaving Jennie and her father to run to her. Clarke's mouth turned up into a big smile, leaning down and meeting her daughter as she ran towards her. Skylar's arms wrapped around her neck and hers wrapped around her daughter, and she hauled her up, holding on tight as she stood back up. “Hey baby!” she replied, pressing a quick kiss to her daughter's cheek. “How was class?”  
  
“Great!” the little girl said, face bright. “I got ta spin, and I didn't step on anyone's feet!” Clarke let out a laugh, deciding that was enough to make anyone happy. “That's awesome,” she told her, squeezing her a little tighter as she continued forward, making her way towards the two watching them and grinning. Letting her focus pull away from her daughter, she looked at them and nodded, her smile not leaving. “Hi Jennie,” she said, grinning down at the other little girl. “Did you have a good class too?”  
  
“Yeah!” Jennie stated excitedly, nodding her head. “We jumped, and run and had lotsa fun!”  
  
“You ran,” her father corrected her, giving his daughter an amused look. “You jumped and you ran and had a lot of fun.”  
  
“That's what I said,” Jennie argued, and Skylar laughed before beginning to squirm around, and Clarke bent down and let her go, getting the hint. While the two girls started talking excitedly, Clarke flashed a grin at the man beside her as she stood up.  
  
“Thanks again for bringing Skylar today, Atom,” she told him, and he shook his head. “Not a problem, Clarke,” he replied, waving the thanks away.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke saw a woman standing on the far side of the room, giving her little looks every now and then. Considering she wore leggings and a long shirt and didn't have any child with her, Clarke could guess who it was.  
  
“Excuse me for a second,” she said to Atom, still giving him a smile, and he nodded, returning it, before their daughters pulled his attention back to them. Seeing Skylar conveniently distracted for the moment, the doctor took the opportunity to slip away, turning and making her way to the other side of the room. As she did, she let her smile fall, trying to keep the scowl she felt tugging at her expression from forming. The other woman didn't pretend not to notice, and instead turned and watched her approach.  
  
“You must be Clarke,” the teacher stated, clearly trying to sound welcoming but the slight strain in her tone threw it off. “Skylar's other mother.”  
  
“And Lexa's wife, yeah,” Clarke agreed, barely even trying to keep her tone even. The other woman shifted, more of her weight moving to one side, as though she felt uncomfortable, and the doctor just stood a little straighter. “And you're Costia.”  
  
“Yes,” Costia said, and then awkwardly held out her hand. Clarke didn't even glance at it, and a second later the hand retreated.  
  
“I'm not here to exchange pleasantries,” the blonde informed her, needing to consciously keep her fingers from curling into fists. “I'm just here to introduce myself and to tell you not to invite my wife on anymore coffee dates.”  
  
Costia's eyes widened minutely, something in her expression shifting. Her arms crossed over her chest, trying to appear aloof. “Is that so?” she asked, her eyebrows lifting up in fake calm. “And do you make all the decisions for your wife?”  
  
“No,” Clarke answered, and then said, “But sometimes I disagree with her decisions. For example, Lexa decided a long time ago to forgive you for what you did to her. I haven't, and I don't.” For a brief moment she lost her own battle, hands clenching tightly down at her sides as she thought about what this woman had put Lexa through those many years ago. She hadn't even been around to see the full extent of her love's pain, but even just imagining it made Clarke's blood boil in her veins. Almost immediately she regained control of herself, hands relaxing slightly, and told the other woman calmly, “You put Lexa through enough pain, you don't get to take up anymore of her time.” Costia's lips parted in surprise and Clarke felt a certain amount of satisfaction when she saw guilt flash quickly across the other woman's face.  
  
“I didn't-” she began to say, but Clarke shook her head.  
  
“No,” she said, cutting her off, “You don't get to explain yourself to me. You hurt her, that's all I care about.” She heard her daughter call to her from the other side of the room, excitement still in her voice, and held Costia's gaze for a moment longer. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go.” She turned around, leaving a still stunned Costia behind her, and made herself smile as she walked back to her daughter.  
  
“So what do you think, you ready to go?” she asked, reaching her hand out, and Skylar quickly took it, completely missing any residual effects still lingering from her discussion with the dance teacher. “Yep,” she agreed, giving a quick nod before placing her free hand on her belly and looking down at it. “I'm hungry,” she decided, glancing back up at her mother. “Can I have a snack?” Clarke grinned, giving her hand a little squeeze.  
  
“I think there'll be enough time when we get home for a little snack before supper,” she agreed, and Skylar let out a little cheer, following her mother out of the studio.  
  
Behind them, Costia watched them go, unable to quite process the conversation she'd just had, trying to pair up the intimidating blonde with the smiling mother.  
  
She had to admit, she could understand what Lexa saw in her.

***

“I don't wanna,” Skylar cried, little tears starting to run down her face. Her fingers curled up into fists, wiping blearily at her face but the movement only smeared the tear tracks along her cheeks as more continued to fall. “I can't, I can't, I don't wanna!”  
  
“Skylar, honey, it's okay,” Ms. Greene told her, kneeling down beside her and trying to help the little girl calm down while the rest of the class stood around awkwardly behind her. “It's going to be fine; you've done the dance so many times, it's going to be just like that!”  
  
“N-no it's not,” she said, still trying to wipe away the tears before they could fall and failing. “There's so m-many _people_.”  
  
“Skylar!” everyone heard, and Skylar threw herself around, running towards her family before she even saw them. Tris was the first in the room, darting directly to her, and Skylar threw her arms around her big sister's neck, burying her face against her shoulder.  
  
Clarke, Lexa and Calvin all followed, Jennie bringing up the rear, the little girl having gone out to get them the moment her friend started to panic. She stepped back then, deciding it would be best to stay out of the way, even as she looked worriedly at her best friend.  
  
“Hey,” Clarke murmured, kneeling next to her daughters, ignoring everyone else in the room. She reached out, gently tucking a strand of red hair behind her youngest daughter's ear. “What's the matter, sweetie?”  
  
“I don't wanna,” she said, the words muffled against her sister's shoulder. Lexa stood right behind her wife, also reaching forward and resting a hand against the little girl's shoulder. “Don't wanna what, Sky?” she asked softly. She glanced over at the other girls in their costumes and Costia watching them, and then looked back down. “You don't want to dance?”  
  
“S-so many p-people,” Skylar managed to get out, lifting her head and looking at her mothers, the tears still running down her cheeks. “I can't.” The last two words came out as nothing more than a whisper, her fear all too obvious in them.  
  
“It's okay, Sky, you don't have to,” Tris assured her, holding onto her sister tighter, and then she looked up to their mothers. “Right?” she asked, hoping they would agree. The next second she knew she shouldn't have worried, both of them immediately nodding.  
  
“Of course not,” Lexa agreed, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Dancing in front of an audience can be scary; you don't have to do it if you don't want to.” Skylar's eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. “Really?” she asked, and Clarke just smiled at her. “Really,” she told her, reaching out, and Skylar transferred her hold from her sister to her Mumma, already feeling better with her family around her.  
  
Calvin glanced at them and then around the room, before turning back towards the door. “I'll go tell everyone else we're leaving,” he said, and then shot his youngest sister a little grin. “I bet Nana and Bampa will take us all out to get ice cream, Sky.” His words had the desired effect, immediately seeming to cheer her up as she gave him a watery smile. His Ma shook her head, unable to stop the corners of her lips from curling up as she gave him a look.  
  
“Thank you Cal, tell everyone we will meet them out in the parking lot,” she told him, and then lifted an eyebrow at him. “And please don't beg your grandparents for ice cream.” He gave her a cheeky smile and then left the room, and somehow she just knew they would be getting ice cream before going home.  
  
“Come on,” Clarke murmured, her hold on Skylar only getting tighter as she stood up, the little girl still clinging to her. “Let's go meet your brother and everyone else.” Skylar nodded against her and then picked her head up, looking guiltily over at Ms. Greene and the others. “Sorry,” she whispered, tightly gripping her mother's shirt, and her dance teacher gave her a reassuring smile.  
  
“It's okay Skylar,” she just said. “We all get a little stage-fright sometimes.” Skylar didn't know what that was but she nodded anyway, and then looked down at her best friend. Her tummy hurt, feeling really bad for leaving like this, but Jennie just shot her a big grin. “See you Monday, Skylar!” she exclaimed with a hasty wave, and the little girl felt her tummy settle a little, glad her best friend wasn't mad at her.  
  
Lexa looked over at the dance teacher, meeting her eyes and giving her a nod, before focusing back on her family. An arm curled lightly around Clarke's waist, while the other fell lightly over Tris's shoulders. “Come on,” she said to them, smiling at her daughters before smirking at her wife. “Let's go see if your brother has roped your grandparents into taking us out for ice cream yet.” Tris and Skylar nodded, clearly both hoping he had, and Clarke let out a light laugh, shaking her head and leaning against her wife. They left the room together, leaving the rest of Costia's dance class to finish getting ready for their recital. 

***

The moment they got home, Skylar performed her dance for her family, her moms and siblings all having seen it before but clapping just as loudly as her aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins. She beamed up at them, and later admitted to her mothers that she liked the dancing, but not the big audience of strangers watching her. In bed that night Clarke and Lexa decided they would refurnish the basement, turning a corner of it into a little dance studio for their daughter so she could keep doing something she loved without having to worry about dancing in front of a crowd comprised of anything but family. Lexa would be her teacher, and thinking about it, she couldn't quite hide her excitement, pleased with the idea of getting back into the first thing she ever truly loved.  
  
Clarke was pleased too, though not quite for the same reason. This all meant that dance lessons at Tapping Toes were over, and the idea of none of them ever having to see Costia again made her happier than she cared to admit. Lexa saw right through her, giving her a look when she tried to subtly mention she would call and cancel the lessons tomorrow, and accused her of being entirely too pleased with how it had all turned out. Clarke didn't deny it, and then showed Lexa just how happy she was.

***

_Two Years Later_

“Here you go Dr. Woods.”  
  
Clarke shot a smile at the young woman holding the patient file out for her. “Thanks Charlotte,” she replied, taking the file and flipping it open, giving a quick scan of its contents. The file contained all the information she needed for the consult she needed to be at in just over five minutes, all information she'd gone over before but wanted to take one last look at before the meeting. Making sure the patient stats in her head matched those on paper, she gave a quick nod before shooting the receptionist another smile. “Have fun, Dr. Woods,” Charlotte told her, flashing her a smile that Clarke returned before turning to head down the busy hallway.  
  
Before making it more than three steps, the doctor froze, her mouth dropping open and eyes widening in surprise. Nurses, patients and doctors walked the hall, as hectic as any hospital would be, but suddenly her attention pulled to a single person walking in her direction, listening intently at the woman beside him. He nodded as she spoke, brow furrowed in concentration, but when he looked forward and caught sight of the blonde, all of that concentration flew away, his own eyes widening, though Clarke noted he appeared to get over the shock a lot faster than she did. After all, after only a quick second he managed to pull himself back together while she continued to stand there staring like an idiot.  
  
“J-Jaime?” she called out, the name getting stuck in her throat. Her ex-boyfriend gave her a nervous smile as he shrugged his shoulders awkwardly, stopping a few feet in front of her. “Hi Clarke,” he returned, one hand raising up to rub nervously at his neck, a gesture that threw her back into her past, flashes of countless memories where she'd seen him do the same thing suddenly speeding through her mind.  
  
Dr. Tsing, the woman he'd been walking with before stopping, lifted an eyebrow, looking back and forth between the two of them. “You two know each other?” she asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice. Jaime nodded, his smile softening and becoming more genuine as he continued to look at the blonde. “Yeah, we go way back,” he replied, finally looking away from the still stunned Clarke. Grinning at Dr. Tsing, he gestured to the younger woman, saying, “Clarke and I went to med school together.” The older woman looked down at the blonde, expression pulling tight as though she'd just tasted something sour, and Clarke gave her a look, not quite in enough shock to miss it. “Well then I'm sure you'd love to catch up, but right now we really should get you to your interview Dr. Cooper.” She glanced at the younger woman, voice getting noticeably colder. “Dr. Woods.”  
  
“Interview?” Clarke asked, completely ignoring the other woman as she looked back at Jaime, and he gave her another uncertain grin. “Yeah,” he said, “My second. I'm trying for the-”  
  
“Opening in oncology,” Clarke finished, her brain finally starting to work again and put all of the pieces together. _Of course_. “Well I... Good luck; I hope it goes well.”  
  
“Thanks Clarke,” he told her, his dark eyes shining in a way that felt far too familiar to her considering how much time had gone by since they'd last seen each other. He glanced over at Dr. Tsing, the woman now waiting obviously impatiently, and then looked back at her. “Maybe after we could talk? It's been a while.”  
  
“Oh,” she began, surprised all over again. “Yeah that would, that would be great. I've got...” She stared down at the file still clutched tightly in her hand, her brain whirling to try to get past this block she suddenly felt. “A consult,” she finally remembered, looking up again. “I have to go give a consult right now, but I think I have a few minutes later. We could grab a cup of coffee? In the doctor's lounge, on this floor?” She smiled then, feeling a little bit of her awkwardness fall away. “If you're going to be working here, you might as well learn which lounges have the best coffee.”  
  
“I don't have the job yet,” he reminded her, but couldn't hide a slight grin, and she returned it. “You're a great oncologist, they'd be crazy not to hire you.” Her words made him duck his head a little, once again rubbing at his neck. “Thanks Clarke,” he told her, “That really means a lot.”  
  
“If you're done, we really should go,” Dr. Tsing interrupted, her arms crossed in front of her and looking as though she were about ready to start tapping her foot. Jaime nodded to her, before glancing one last time at the blonde. “I'm glad we ran into each other, Clarke. I'll see you in a little while.”  
  
“Yeah, me too,” she replied, part of her still feeling as though she were in a fog. “See you soon, and good luck.” He flashed her one more smile and then let Dr. Tsing lead him down the hall, the clack of her heels only barely audible over the commotion of the others moving around them.  
  
“Well that was awkward,” Charlotte stated, her gaze following the two doctors as they walked away. As they turned around the nearest corner, her eyebrows rose, looking back at the blonde. “Not sure I believe he's just a friend from your med-school days. Who is he?”  
  
“My ex,” Clarke muttered, stepping back and leaning against her desk, the hand not still clenching the file rubbing at her forehead. “He's my ex. An ex I haven't seen in... God, I don't know how many years.” Except she did know. Since she could practically pinpoint to the day how long it had been since Octavia and Lincoln's wedding, all she had to do was add about four months to that, and that's how much time had gone by since she'd last seen Jaime.  
  
“Huh,” Charlotte let out, looking back to the spot he'd disappeared from. “You've got good taste. He's certainly not bad to look at. But then, I've always been a sucker for dark hair and dimples.” Clarke gave her a look, and the other woman only grinned. “One thing's for sure though, thing's just got more exciting around here.” The doctor just shot her a quick glare and the receptionist smirked before tapping on her wrist and lifting an eyebrow. Getting the message, Clarke swore, realizing what time it was and took off, now late for her consult.  
  
Just over an hour later, Clarke found herself sitting at a small table, a lukewarm cup of bad hospital coffee in front of her and her ex-boyfriend across from her. They sat there for what felt like had to be at least a couple of minutes, awkward silence between them, before she finally decided to try to break it.  
  
“How'd the interview go?” she asked, leaning forward and bracing her elbows against the table. She grabbed the cup more because she needed something to do with her hands than because she needed the bad coffee, and watched as he thought his answer over.  
  
“Well, I think,” he replied, “I think it went really well.” He lifted his cup and took a sip, face scrunching up the moment the coffee touched his tongue. “This is supposed to be one of the lounges with the best coffee?” She grinned, unable to hide her small amount of amusement, and shook her head. “I just said you should learn which ones had the best coffee, not that this one was one of them,” she joked, taking a sip of her own coffee with a straight face. He gave her a look, trying not to grin, and shook his head. “It must be some universal law that all hospitals have bad coffee,” he decided, setting the cup back on the table and shooting it a withered look. “The last place I was at had coffee that was just as bad.” His head tilted then, apparently curious, and then quickly took another gulp of the coffee. The way his lips turned down, Clarke thought he immediately regretted the decision, and couldn't help but grin a little. “No, I was wrong, this is actually worse than the stuff was there, which I really didn't think was possible.”  
  
“Where were you, before this?” she asked, curious as to what he had been doing since she last saw him in med-school. “Shallow Valley,” he answered, now ignoring his coffee to focus on her. She frowned, the name sounding a little familiar but not any place she knew off the top of her head, and he shrugged. “It's a little hospital, nothing huge. They had to close because they were so small, so I needed to find another job. I started looking online and saw that Mount Memorial was looking for an oncologist so I figured I would give it a try.” He paused then, looking away awkwardly before his eyes flickered back to hers. “I uh, I remembered that your mom worked here but I wasn't sure if you did. I was hoping to find out before awkwardly running into either of you, but the only times I've been here are for the interviews and I don't think it really leaves a great impression if you spend that time trying to find information out about your ex-girlfriend and her mother. Sorry.”  
  
“No, it's fine,” Clarke replied, waving off the apology and trying to give him a smile. “You're right, that's probably not something that would get you hired.” He nodded, looking off to the side again nervously before rubbing his neck.  
  
“Look Clarke, if this is too weird, I'll withdraw my resume,” he told her, meeting her eyes once again. He gestured between them, saying, “This is awkward, I know, and I don't have any right to barge back into your life. If you're uncomfortable with me being here, I totally get it, and I'll get out of your hair.”  
  
Clarke felt her expression soften and reached out, resting her hand gently over one of his, lips curling up into a soft smile. “Jaime, I don't think you've ever barged into anything in your life,” she informed him, a light teasing in her tone. “If you have, it was after we broke up, because you definitely never did with me.” Her hand squeezed his once and she watched as he let out a little laugh, the sound light and momentarily pulling at her heart. She had loved this man at one time in her life, and with him sitting across from her, it was easy to remember why. As he smiled at her, she returned it, before continuing on. “And yeah, this is a little weird, I think we both know that, but that doesn't mean you should withdraw your resume. This is a great hospital, a great place to work, and I know you're a great oncologist: you deserve to be here just as much as me.”  
  
His hand turned over beneath hers, returning the pressure with a brief squeeze. “How do you know I'm a great oncologist?” he wanted to know, lifting an eyebrow. “You've never seen me work outside of a classroom before.” She shook her head, giving him a look before telling him, “I remember you in that classroom, and I remember knowing then that you were going to make a great oncologist, and my opinion hasn't changed just because it's been a few years.”  
  
“More than a few,” he remarked, and she shrugged in admission, even as she pulled her hand away to lift her cup again. His forehead furrowed as he watched her take a long sip, asking her, “How do you drink that stuff?”  
  
“You get used to it,” she replied, lightly placing the cup back on the table, feeling more at ease than she had believed she would. He shook his head, the corners of his lips twitching. “Still addicted to coffee, I see.”  
  
“I'm not addicted,” she argued, so easily falling back into this light banter they used to have nearly every day. “I could quit any time if I wanted.”  
  
“You just don't want to,” he finished for her, clearly remembering it as easily as she did. “Exactly,” she agreed with a quick nod, flashing him a smile, and then leaned forward, letting her chin rest against her palm. “So how are you, Jaime? I mean really, how are you?”  
  
“I'm good,” he replied, letting the teasing melt away into this more serious but still surprisingly comfortable conversation. “Really good. You?”  
  
“Also good,” she answered, thinking about just how great her life was. “What about your family? How's your mom and all your hundreds of siblings?” He rolled his eyes at her good-naturedly before informing her, “Not hundreds, just four, and they're all good. I'm an uncle many times over since the last time we saw each other, and Mom's a very happy Grandma. How're Abby and Jake?”  
  
A shadow passed across the blonde's face, her mood suddenly dampening for just a moment. “Dad died about five years ago,” she replied quietly, and he immediately reached forward, this time covering her hand with his own. “Clarke, I'm so sorry,” he murmured, remembering how close she'd been with her father, but she just gave a little shake of her head, forcing herself to smile again. “It happened a long time ago,” she said, trying to shake off the sadness she felt any time she thought of her father. Enough time had gone by that she no longer ached when reminded of him, but she knew she'd never completely stop missing him. Not wanting to bring the mood down, she continued, “My mom's doing pretty well though. Work keeps her busy, and when she's free she has three grandchildren happy to take its place for her attention.”  
  
His eyes widened, looking like he was almost more surprised to hear that than he had been with seeing her again. “Three?” he asked, the surprise in his voice, and she nodded, grinning. “Wow. That's... Wow. That's wonderful Clarke! I'm so happy for you.” He looked at her then, studying her, before asking, “So it worked out then? With you and your Marine? What was her name?”  
  
“Lexa,” she answered, any trace of sadness still lingering from the mention of her father melting away with the talk of her love. “Yeah, it worked out. It worked out really well.”  
  
“That's wonderful, Clarke,” he repeated, and then grinned as he corrected himself, “I mean Dr. Woods. Dr. Clarke Woods.” He said the name slowly, as though testing it, and she let out a little laugh.  
  
“Technically it's Dr. Clarke Griffin-Woods,” she informed him. “We hyphenated our names, but since my mom's Dr. Griffin, dropping it while I'm here and just being Dr. Woods is a lot easier for everyone. And I like it.” She liked it a lot, even years after their wedding, getting to hear Lexa's name associated with her and her name associated with Lexa. Looking back over at him, she felt an eyebrow quirk up, giving him a look as she asked, “What about you, Dr. Cooper? Did it all work out for you?”  
  
“Yeah,” he answered with a little nod, “It's worked out pretty well. I'm not married, but I've got a girlfriend who I've been dating for about three and half years. She's amazing; every time I go to Mom's she always gets on me about why I haven't proposed yet.” He told his story with a roll of his eyes, and Clarke laughed, very easily remembering what his mother was like. She remembered times of visiting while they'd been dating and his mother dropping the same kind of hints. Whenever she had Clarke had always smiled and shook her head, feeling guilty as a voice in her subconscious always reminded her Jaime was never the one she wanted to marry. Seeing him across from her now, clearly happy with how his life was, she couldn't help but smile, glad that it had all turned out alright.  
  
“That doesn't surprise me at all,” she replied, still grinning. “Your mom definitely was never one to be shy about that.”  
  
“Never,” he agreed, voice strained in fake exhaustion before he took another swallow of his coffee, glaring down at the cup as soon as he did. “Okay, that's it, I can't do it anymore,” he gave in, getting up from the table to walk over to the trashcan nearby. Dropping the bad coffee inside, he looked over at her, head shaking as she just took another sip of her own, grinning. “I don't know how you do it, Clarke, I really don't. I think being able to drink bad coffee must be one of your superpowers.”  
  
“I'll have to tell my son that,” she said with a laugh. Noticing how his brow rose in curiosity as he sat back down, she told him, “He's an artist, and a couple of years ago he started working on a comic book because of a class assignment. He was supposed to write about some of his heroes, and he got the idea to create this story about two superheroes he modeled after me and Lexa. I think he'd laugh about the coffee superpower, and probably agree with you.”  
  
“That's awesome,” Jaime replied with a wide grin, arms crossing on the table in front of him. “Did you teach him? The art, I mean?”  
  
“Yeah,” she replied. “At first, at least. He's also taken all the art classes possible in school, and teaches himself stuff on the side.” She shrugged, thinking about her son and his art, and couldn't help smiling softly. “It's what he loves.”  
  
Jaime couldn't miss her smile if he'd wanted to, and felt himself smile as well. Seeing Clarke so obviously happy made him happy, even if he did feel the smallest pang of jealousy in his gut. He'd loved her, there was no denying it, probably would still love her if they'd lasted, but seeing her talk about her family only further proved to him she'd never loved him quite the same way. It didn't matter, not really, both more than content with how their lives had turned out, but the truth was there nevertheless.  
  
“What about the other two?” he asked. “Are they artists too?” Clarke let out a single laugh, shaking her head. “God no,” she answered, thinking about her daughters. “Tris wouldn't be able to sit still long enough to get any kind of art out. She's always moving. No, she plays hockey, that's her big love. And Skylar...” she trailed off, thinking about her youngest, and just lifted a shoulder. “Skylar's six: she's still figuring out what she loves. Right now it's books.”  
  
“A very good thing to love,” he mused, grinning, and she nodded, completely agreeing. He looked like he was about to ask another question when the blonde's expression smoothed out, a hint of annoyance dancing across her face as she took another drink from her coffee. Frowning, he gave her a curious look, until a voice behind him pulled his attention away.  
  
“Well Dr. Cooper,” he heard, and turned to see Dr. Tsing walking towards them. She didn't even glance at the younger woman, and Jaime's gaze flickered between them momentarily before he returned the second woman's smile. “Your interview went well, I take it?”  
  
“It did,” he replied, nodding, choosing to ignore the way Clarke stared at her cup rather than look at her. “Thank you again for the tour beforehand.” Dr. Tsing brushed his thanks away with a simple gesture. “Of course,” she replied, “It was my pleasure. I hope I'll be seeing you again very soon. Good luck.” She finally glanced at the blonde, her smile more forced and not reaching anywhere near her eyes. “Dr. Woods.”  
  
“Dr. Tsing,” Clarke replied, returning the almost cold tone before the older woman continued by them, moving over to the cabinets along the wall so that she could make herself a cup of tea.  
  
“Well you two don't like each other,” Jaime murmured after she'd gone by, voice only loud enough for Clarke to hear. As the blonde shrugged, not denying it, he cocked an eyebrow at her. “What's the story there?”  
  
“Nothing exciting,” she told him, also keeping her voice down a little. “She thinks I got my position here just because of my mom. She's made it clear exactly what she thinks of my skills.” She shrugged again, putting down her coffee. “Besides, we just have different philosophies: she believes more in the science behind medicine, thinks of patients more as numbers than anything else, I think of them as people and the reason I care about my work. She's more into the research anyway, so we don't have to interact very often.”  
  
“Got it,” he said, glancing over at the woman still working on getting her cup of tea. She'd been nice enough while giving the tour, but he'd be interested to see what might change if he actually got the position.  
  
As Jaime looked over at the other doctor, studying her for a minute, Clarke ignored the other woman. She studied him instead, still finding it hard to believe he was sitting in front of her, but not at all uncomfortable by it. Her eyes skimmed across his face, trying to decide what was different and what hadn't changed, until another bit of movement in the doorway pulled her focus from him. Without meaning to, she felt herself begin to grin again, watching as her mother walked towards them, glancing up from the file in her hand only long enough to find her daughter.  
  
“Clarke, I was wondering about this weekend,” she began as she walked over to her daughter's table, her attention only half on the blonde while the other half remained on the patient file she was still skimming through. “Do you know what time I should expect everyone? It's the usual crew, right? I was thinking of making the rolls you and Lexa always used to fight over to go with dinner.” She finally glanced up, expecting to get a reply, but before she could her eyes widened, finally looking at the person across from her daughter and recognizing him immediately. “ _Jaime_?”  
  
“Hi Abby,” he said with a grin, jumping up from his chair, and then paused, brow furrowing as he looked back at Clarke and then her again. “Uh, I mean Dr. Griffin. It's nice to see you again.”  
  
“I...It's nice to see you again too,” she replied, taking his hand when he reached out and giving it a little shake. She glanced over at her daughter, raising her eyebrows, lost, and watched as Clarke grinned at her.  
  
“Jaime just had an interview for the oncology position,” she informed her mother, helping her fill in the blanks. “We ran into each other and decided to get some coffee and catch up.”  
  
“Oh,” the elder Dr. Griffin said, and then gave Jaime an encouraging smile. “Well I wish you luck, Jaime; we'd be lucky to have you.”  
  
“Thanks Dr. Griffin,” he replied, shooting her another smile, and she shook her head. “Abby,” she insisted, lips turning up a little further as she looked once again down to her daughter and then back to him. “Just because you and Clarke aren't dating anymore doesn't mean you and I need to be formal.”  
  
“Abby,” he agreed, grinning, and then glanced down at his watch as he pulled his arm away. The moment he did his lips turned down into a small frown, before he looked back at them, telling them apologetically, “I'd love to stay and catch up more, but I actually have to head out. I really hope I get to see you both again soon though.” Abby nodded in agreement as Clarke stood up, stepping towards him. She reached out and then hesitated, catching herself automatically going to hug him, and he just grinned before stepping forward to close the space. Giving her a quick hug, he felt his heart tug at the familiarity of it all, and then mentally shook his head. Stepping back and giving them both a simple nod, he shot one final smile at the blonde, telling her, “Thanks again for the coffee Clarke, even if it was terrible. It was really nice being able to catch up. I'm glad you're happy.”  
  
“Thanks Jaime,” Clarke returned, smile softening slightly. “I'm really glad we ran into each other, and am glad you're happy too.” Their eyes met one last time, sharing a smile, and then he turned away, quickly leaving the doctors' lounge and heading down the hall to where he was pretty sure the exit was.  
  
The mother and daughter watched him go, neither one entirely past their shock even though Clarke had had a lot more time to process hers, and then Abby was turning to her, an eyebrow lifting.  
  
“Well that was unexpected,” she decided, and then scanned her daughter's face. “Are you okay?” Clarke nodded, looking back at her before telling her, “Yeah Mom, I'm okay. Still a little surprised, but fine.” Abby gave her a look, not entirely sure she believed her. “Are you sure? It isn't every day you run into an ex, and certainly not every day you find out you soon might be working with them.”  
  
“It's fine,” her daughter replied. Finding her mother still giving her a disbelieving look, she rolled her eyes. “Really Mom, it isn't a big deal. We're adults, this doesn't have to be weird.”  
  
“Mm,” Abby agreed, though the tone behind the noise didn't quite sound convincing. Glancing back at the doorway, she asked, “What do you think Lexa will think about this?”  
  
“Lexa won't have a problem with it,” Clarke told her, feeling relatively sure about her answer but maybe not quite as sure as she sounded. She remembered her own reaction when Lexa's ex had popped back into her life, and suddenly felt even less sure. Still, she tried not to show that uncertainty, just meeting her mother's eyes as she gave her a look. She felt Abby study her for a minute and knew she probably could see at least some of her uncertainty, but her mother seemed to decide not to bring it up.  
  
“Okay,” she simply said, and then, just to change the subject, she asked, “So, what time do you think will work for everyone this weekend, and do the rolls sound good?”  
  
“Rolls sound great, Mom,” Clarke answered, and then let her mother drag her into a conversation about their weekend plans, knowing she was trying to get Jaime off her mind. It didn't work, and even as they talked all Clarke could really think about was the conversation she'd have to have once she was home that night. She had absolutely no idea how it would go. 

***

“Mum, watch it!” Tris exclaimed, her hip bumping Clarke out of the way as she stole the spatula from her hand. “You're gonna burn the vegetables!” Looking down at the mixture of squash, zucchini and onion in the pan in front of her, she quickly turned down the heat of the burner, giving them a small stir as she did.  
  
“Good,” Skylar muttered from her spot at the table, not looking up from her drawing in front of her. “I hate vegetables.” Her sister rolled her eyes, tossing her a look over her shoulder. “That's cause you don't know good food. If you just tried this, you'd probably like it.” Skylar just shook her head stubbornly, still not looking up, and again Tris rolled her eyes before dropping it to send another look at her blonde mother. “What's with you? You're almost as bad as Mama tonight.”  
  
“I resent that,” Lexa informed her, looking up from the paperwork in front of her where she sat at the kitchen island. Tris raised her eyebrows, as if daring the mother to get into this argument once again, but Lexa decided not to take the bait, knowing it was a fight she'd never win. Instead she turned to her wife on the other side of the island where she now leaned against the counter, shaking her head and grinning as Tris took over her job. “You do seem a little distracted this evening though, Clarke. Is everything alright?”  
  
Clarke looked over to her wife, finding her already looking at her, and her mind immediately jumped to the piece of news she hadn't yet been able to share. She'd only gotten home from work a little over an hour ago, and had yet to find a moment she could pull Lexa aside and tell her about her new potential co-worker. The hour had been filled with helping Skylar and Tris with their homework while Lexa took Cal to a friend's house and then beginning to get dinner ready, and it was only now that she and Lexa were even in the same room together for more than just a of couple minutes in passing.  
  
“Everything's fine,” she assured her, pushing off of the counter so that she could instead lean forward, arms resting against the island between them. She noticed Lexa's head tilt slightly to the side, obviously seeing something in her expression that told her more than just what her words had. Glancing back at Tris she found her still stirring the vegetables while taking a quick peek at the chicken in the oven, and then looked over to the table to see Skylar still focused on her drawing. Hoping they were both effectively distracted, she met Lexa's eyes again, the other woman still clearly curious. “I uh, I saw someone at work today. Someone I haven't seen in a while.”  
  
“Oh?” Lexa asked, voice light, trying to read the micro-expressions flashing across her wife's face. “Who did you see?”  
  
“Jaime,” Clarke told her, her voice lowering a little, and watched as Lexa's brow furrowed in confusion, trying to place the name. She gave her a second, and then practically saw it when the name finally placed itself and the other woman's eyes widened slightly. “Jaime? You mean your...?”  
  
“Yes, that Jaime,” the blonde answered as Lexa's voice trailed off. “There's an opening in the oncology department, and I guess he's applying for it.”  
  
“Oh,” Lexa simply repeated, entirely thrown by the turn in conversation. She didn't know what she'd expected Clarke to tell her, but this certainly hadn't been it. “That's... good?”  
  
“Yeah, I guess,” Clarke said, giving a little shrug. “I mean, he's a good oncologist, or at least he always seemed like he'd be a good one, it's just kind of... weird.” Lexa nodded, still processing, and Clarke gave her a look, scanning her face. “Are you okay with that?” she asked, even more quietly. “I mean that he... and I... might be working together soon?”  
  
“I'm... surprised,” the brunette told her, meeting the blues eyes looking at her a little worriedly. She smiled then, just a small turn of the lips, and added, “But I see no reason not to be okay with it.” Clarke visibly relaxed, returning her small smile as she reached across the counter, taking one of Lexa's hands and giving it a light squeeze. “Good,” she murmured, “Then I'm okay with it too, as long as you are.”  
  
“Who's Jaime?” Tris asked, voice breaking through the moment even as she continued to pay attention to the food in front of her. Clarke winced slightly, having been really hoping neither of their children had been listening, and Lexa had to lightly bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from grinning. Raising an eyebrow at her wife, she pulled her hand away, gesturing towards their oldest daughter as though to say, “Well he's your ex, you tell her.” Clarke shot her a look, almost sticking her tongue out at her wife, and noticed Lexa's nose crinkle in amusement.  
  
“Jaime is a friend I went to college and med-school with,” she finally informed her oldest daughter, turning around so she could easily see her. “We even dated during some of that time.”  
  
All at once Tris's stirring stopped, and she whirled around, the meal entirely forgotten as her jaw dropped open. Even Skylar looked up from her picture, the crayon in her hand stopping mid-way to the paper, her brow scrunched up in confusion.  
  
“What?” Tris demanded, eyes flashing, even as her sister asked, “How come you dated someone if you and Mama were together?” Hazel eyes flickered back and forth between the mothers, trying to figure out how that made sense. Clarke and Lexa shared a look, a silent conversation flying between them, before Lexa turned around on her stool, holding out her hand. Skylar scooted herself off her chair and moved over to her, Lexa lifting her up onto her lap.  
  
“Well, at the time we weren't together,” she answered, wrapping her arms lightly around her daughter's middle. “During some of the time we weren't together, Jaime was Mumma's boyfriend.” Skylar's brow only furrowed more, still glancing between them. “How come you weren't together?”  
  
Clarke shot a look over at Lexa, the corners of her mouth tugging up into a tiny smile.  
  
“Because somebody thought it was a good idea to break up with me after high school graduation,” she teased, earning a little glare from her wife. What had meant to be a joke quickly backfired as Skylar gasped, jaw dropping as she stared up at the mother whose lap she sat on.  
  
“You broke up with Mumma?” she gasped, pushing herself far enough away from her mother's torso so that she could glare up at her. “Why?!” Lexa's eyes widened at her daughter's glare, surprised by the amount of hurt she found there, and answered carefully, “I did it because I was going far away for college so I could get ready for the Marines. It wasn't fair to either of us to try to stay together when we would never be able to see each other.”  
  
“That's not a good enough reason!” Tris exclaimed, glaring at them while her heart started to beat faster and faster in her chest. She knew that people dated, understood that most were in a few relationships before they actually settled down with someone, but had never once stopped to think about either of her mothers with anyone else. Now the idea had been forced into her head though, and it was all she could picture. Glaring harder at her Mama, she growled, “You can't just leave someone like that. You don't leave someone you love!”  
  
The words hit the two mothers, reading into the history behind them even if Tris herself didn't entirely understand what she'd said, and felt their chests tighten. Lexa looked at her, trying to think of a way to explain their past in a way that would make sense to them both, while Clarke reached towards her, saying softly, “Tris...” The girl just stepped away from the hand, jaw setting stubbornly as she continued to glare.  
  
Before either mother could think of something to say to their oldest daughter, Skylar looked up curiously at Lexa from her lap, the corners of her lips pulled down and little lines appearing on her forehead. “Did you break Mumma's heart?” she asked, her voice quiet, and Lexa looked down at her, opening her mouth to answer and then immediately closing it. Skylar's jaw dropped slightly, her lips parting in shocked horror. “You broke Mumma's heart?” Before Lexa could think of something to say she squirmed off her lap, running around the island and wrapping her arms around Clarke's waist. She stood just tall enough for Lexa to see the little glare she shot at her above the island.  
  
“I... It's okay Sky,” Clarke told her, rubbing a soothing hand along the little girl's back even as she and Lexa shared a look, each clearly reading the other's surprise in how this conversation was quickly unraveling. “Mama didn't mean to hurt me, she only did it because she loved me.”  
  
“That doesn't make sense,” Tris argued, her hands moving to her hips, no longer remembering she still held the spatula. “You don't break up with someone cause you love them.” Her eyes widened and then narrowed, a new thought clearly flashing through her mind as she looked at the blonde mother. “Did you love him? This Jaime guy, did you love him?”  
  
Clarke nodded once, not wanting to lie to them. “Yes,” she replied lightly, “I loved him. Just not in the same way I've always loved your mother.” Tris's jaw clenched, thinking about all of her friends whose parents had divorced and feeling her pulse pick up even further. She couldn't even imagine that happening to their family, but now she felt that fear beginning to tingle at the back of her neck. What if this guy broke up her parents?  
  
“You can't work with someone you loved!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air, fingers curling even more tightly around the spatula. Before Clarke could say anything, she rounded on Lexa. “And you can't be okay with them working together! What if he still loves her?”  
  
“Tris,” Lexa began, wanting to help her calm down and tell her none of them had anything to worry about, but before she could get more than just the name out Skylar spoke up, still looking at her from over the island.  
  
“Did you date anyone other than Mumma?” she wanted to know, and from the way her shoulder moved Lexa could tell she'd put one hand on her hip while the other still curled around Clarke's leg. “I did not date anyone after your mother, no,” she responded slowly, knowing that six and eleven were too young to try to explain the purely physical relationship she'd had for a couple of months that one year in college. Glancing up and meeting her wife's eyes, she saw Clarke give her a shrug, having an idea what she was going to say next. “But I did have a girlfriend before your mother, yes.”  
  
“Who?” Tris demanded, almost rolling her eyes in annoyance as she growled, “You don't work with her too do you?”  
  
“Tris it's okay to be angry but it's not okay to be rude to your mother,” Clarke warned her, expression pulling almost into a scowl. Lexa shot her a small smile before looking back at her daughter, expression evening out. “No I do not work with her, but you have met her before,” she answered, deciding it would be better to just get it all out now. “For part of my first year of high school I dated Costia. Ms. Greene.”  
  
At that, both Tris and Skylar's jaws dropped, and then Skylar pushed herself away from Clarke and walked towards her sister, able to see her mother a little better at the new angle.  
  
“You dated my _dance teacher_?” she demanded, entirely appalled by the idea. Even after a couple of years she still remembered her old dance teacher pretty well, and the idea of her Mama ever being in a relationship with her grossed her out. Suddenly another thought crashed through the rest, and her eyes widened even further. “Did you _kiss_ her?!”  
  
Slowly Lexa nodded. “While I was dating her, yes, we kissed,” she replied, and watched as Skylar's eyebrows shot up in horror.  
  
“That's gross! You can't kiss my dance teacher!” she nearly yelled, and Lexa might have laughed if the little girl wasn't quite so obviously horrified and she herself wasn't confused and reeling from this conversation. “I didn't kiss her when she was your dance teacher,” she reiterated, hoping that would help in someway, but it did nothing to wipe the disgust from either of her daughters' faces.  
  
“Hey, come on, let's all calm down,” Clarke tried, wanting to bring this little scene to an end and get everyone to calm down. “You two are worrying yourselves about nothing: anybody that your mother or I dated are in the past and have nothing to do with our life right now.”  
  
“No,” Tris shouted, “That's not true! Your ex-boyfriend who you loved is gonna be working with you and you don't care and it's your fault,” she rounded on Lexa, “Because you broke up with her for a stupid reason! It's all stupid and it does too have something to do with right now cause he's back!” Not thinking in her fury, she threw the spatula down, the wooden spoon clanking as it smacked against the hard floor.  
  
“Hey,” Lexa warned, tone immediately dropping as she stood from her stool, giving her daughter a look. “We don't throw things in this house when we're angry. Your mother's right that you're allowed to be upset but you know this isn't the appropriate way to show it.” Tris bit the inside of her cheek, just stopping herself from saying something she knew would get her into the kind of trouble she wouldn't then be able to get out of, and grabbed her little sister's hand.  
  
“Come on Sky,” she grumbled, flashing a glare between her parents. “Let's go.” Skylar followed her, gripping her sister's hand tightly as she gave them her own angry look. Together they left the kitchen, and a few moments later the mothers could hear them stomping up the stairs and then the loud slam of their bedroom door shutting.  
  
For a second, Clarke and Lexa stood in silence, neither knowing what to say. The only sound in the room came from the sizzling of the vegetables on the stove, and when she looked down on them Clarke found nothing more than black and brown char, completely forgotten in the fight.  
  
“Well that was... not really what I was expecting,” she said offhandedly, still trying to wrap her mind around everything that had just happened. She turned the burner off as Lexa rounded the island, bending over to grab the spatula off the floor.  
  
“It wasn't what I was expecting either,” she agreed, dropping the spatula in the sink. “Though since that was a spur of the moment conversation, I suppose we shouldn't have been expecting anything.”  
  
“Mm,” Clarke muttered, shaking her head to try to clear it out. Part of her felt like she'd just experienced whiplash and the rest of her was only now beginning to feel it. Forcing a partial smile, she looked over at Lexa and joked, “I know that we've always said that it's best to stick with honesty, but I'm thinking maybe my answer should have just been Jaime's an old friend and left it at that.” Her wife returned the smile as one hand wiped at her face, as though she were trying to wipe the entire argument away. “Normally honesty is best, but in this case I think you may be right.” Glancing down at the pan on the stove, the corners of her mouth turned up a little further. “At least Skylar will be happy that she won't need to eat any vegetables tonight.” Clarke let out a little laugh, the motion helping to ease a little of the tension from her back. She moved over to Lexa then, wrapping her arms around her wife's waist and feeling the other woman's arms wrap around her.  
  
“What just happened?” she muttered, staring ahead as her chin balanced heavily on Lexa's shoulder. Her mind reeled, having a hard time trying to process their daughters' reactions to finding out about these little pieces of their pasts, unsure where all that anger had come from. “I don't know,” she heard Lexa murmur just as quietly, and could tell she was just as lost. “I guess neither of them have ever imagined us with anyone else before.” Clarke felt her shift a little and pulled back so she could look at the other woman's face, finding her frowning. “Is it really that surprising, that we weren't always together?” she asked, and the blonde felt the corners of her mouth pull up.  
  
“For them, I guess so,” she replied, giving a little shrug. “It's all they've ever known, and we've never really talked a whole lot about our past with them.” Lexa gave her a reluctant nod, a small crease still pulling at her brow, and even with the tension Clarke still felt she couldn't help but think her wife looked cute when worried like this. She leaned forward, brushing a light kiss to Lexa's jaw, and immediately that crease disappeared, a tiny smile replacing it as her eyes shifted to the blonde's. Her body naturally moved closer to Clarke's, always finding the most comfort when close to her love, and they both gave themselves a moment to process.  
  
“Now what?” she asked after a minute, glancing at the blonde still pressed close to her. Clarke let out a heavy sigh, one Lexa felt as much as heard, before she shrugged. “I don't know,” she replied, stepping back just enough so that she could meet Lexa's eyes. “We should talk to them, but I'm not sure if now's really the best time. They might need a little space.” Lexa glanced up at the ceiling, just imaging the two young girls at the moment and how they'd looked when they marched out of the room, and nodded.  
  
“I think a little space is probably for the best,” she agreed. Clarke gave her a little smile and nod, before her brow shot up, suddenly remembering the chicken in the oven and nearly swearing. She let go of Lexa and turned quickly, hoping that unlike the vegetables, the chicken at least would be salvageable. She grabbed a potholder and leaned over to open the oven, before glancing over at the brunette. “I'm sorry,” she said, even as she pulled the chicken out, “If I'd known it would have led to that, I definitely wouldn't have mentioned Jaime in front of them.”  
  
“It isn't your fault, Clarke,” Lexa informed her, turning around to lean against the island while she watched her wife work. “You had no way of knowing either of them would react like that.” Her arms crossed in front of her as she leaned back, thinking something over before giving a little shrug. “Besides, it's probably good that they now know we've both been in other relationships before; Tris will likely be dating before too long and Skylar only a few years later, so they should both know that their first relationship isn't likely to be the one that lasts forever.”  
  
Clarke shot her a little look over her shoulder, eyebrows furrowing into a playful glare. “Okay, let's not get ahead of ourselves, Tris still has a while to go before she's dating and Skylar has _years_. I'm already nervous enough for the day Cal comes home talking about a girlfriend, I don't need to start worrying about them too.” Lexa grinned, reaching out and grasping lightly at Clarke's shirt as soon as she put the chicken down, pulling her over to her.  
  
“It'll happen someday Clarke, and when it does you will just have to accept it,” she informed her, and raised an eyebrow as her wife scoffed. “Oh please,” the blonde replied, tightly gripping Lexa's waist as she shot her a grin. “Twenty bucks says that you're the one that's gonna freak out the most when we have to deal with the first relationship. You talk a good game Lexa, but I know you, and when it happens you are not going to be happy.”  
  
“Deal,” Lexa replied with a swift nod, more than willing to take on that bet. “And when I win, perhaps I'll put your twenty dollars towards taking you out on a nice date.” Clarke gave her a cocky grin before leaning forwards, lips getting dangerously close to the other woman's. Her grin only grew as she watched Lexa's eyes fall to her lips, smile falling a little as she became all but entranced by the blonde. “I think I'll use your twenty bucks to pay Raven or Octavia to watch the kids for the night so I can take you somewhere and have you all to myself,” she murmured, pressing a little closer to her wife, and almost laughed when she caught Lexa swallowing thickly. Smirking, she dropped a quick peck to the brunette's lips before pulling away, Lexa shooting her a little scowl as she did so. “Come on,” she said innocently, acting as though she hadn't just been teasing her wife. “Help me find something to go with this chicken. Maybe the girls will be less upset after eating something and we can try to figure this out.”  
  
“You are cruel, Clarke,” Lexa informed her, following the blonde as she moved to one of the cupboards. Her lips still tingled, having expected much more than a simple peck with the way she'd been looking at her, and continued to scowl at her wife. The scowl did nothing to fight away the blonde's grin as she looked over her shoulder, cocking an eyebrow at her. “I told you Lexa, I know you,” she just said by way of explanation. “Now come help me.”  
  
Grumbling, Lexa did as she was told, but when Clarke stepped back against her and her arms wrapped around the blonde's waist as they rummaged through the cupboard for something simple to go with the chicken, her scowl melted away, just as Clarke knew it would.

***

Dinner did not help either Tris or Skylar get over what they'd learned that fateful evening, and neither did anything else either mother tried for the next two days. Calvin came home later that night to Tris giving their moms the silent treatment and Skylar giving the same to Lexa, and had absolutely no idea what had happened while he'd been away. He quickly learned over the next couple of days, and while he thought it was weird and kind of gross, picturing his moms with anyone else, he didn't exactly get why his sisters were so upset, but decided it was best just to stay out of it.  
  
Clarke and Lexa were both beginning to feel a little desperate by the time the weekend rolled around. As they pulled into Abby's driveway, the last to arrive for family dinner, they looked a little longingly at the house, hoping that being around their family might help Skylar and Tris get past their anger.  
  
It definitely didn't look hopeful as they ran into the living room, ahead of their mothers.  
  
“Did you two break up and go to different colleges?” Tris demanded, planting herself in front of Octavia and Lincoln where they sat on the couch, eyes widening at the sudden attack. At the same time Skylar ran up to Raven, sitting on Octavia's other side, and asked loudly, “Did you know my Mama kissed my dance teacher?” Tris crossed her arms and Skylar's hands went to her hips as they scowled at their aunts and uncle, the rest of the room suddenly going quiet at their abrupt entrance.  
  
“Skylar, again, I didn't kiss her when she was your dance teacher,” Lexa groaned, following them into the room. “We kissed when we were dating, _before_ your mother and I were together.” Skylar didn't look back at her, still staring at Raven, whose eyes had gone wider than Clarke thought she'd ever seen them before, but the blonde didn't miss the way her lips had begun to curl up in pure delight. Seeing it, she felt like groaning herself; suddenly she knew she wouldn't be finding the reprieve they'd been hoping for tonight, and instead would only have to listen as Raven at least added fuel to the fire. She wouldn't put it past Octavia to help her.  
  
On the far side of the room Abby stood up from the chair she'd been sitting in, laying a hand on Gustus's shoulder.  
  
“I think I'm going to go work on dinner,” she decided, glancing back over her shoulder at the scene unfolding in the middle of her living room. “Would you like to help me?” The big man immediately nodded, happy to take the excuse to get out of the room fast. “I would love to,” he replied, jumping up out of his chair and happily following her into the other room. He had absolutely no desire to listen to talk about who his daughter may or may not have kissed and when.  
  
“Well?” Tris asked, still not looking away from Octavia and Lincoln and ignoring everything else around her. The couple looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes and then Octavia turned back to her.  
  
“We did go to different colleges, yes, but we didn't break up,” she answered slowly, entirely clueless as to what was going on. Apparently she'd given the wrong answer, because the next moment Clarke's fingers pressed against her forehead even before her daughter whirled around, hands moving to mirror Skylar's stance.  
  
“See?” she exclaimed, gesturing to the couple behind her. “ _They_ didn't have to break up and _they_ went to different colleges!”  
  
“Tris, honey, it's different,” Clarke told her, trying to explain for possibly the hundredth time. “Their colleges were only an hour away from each other; the college Mama went to was across the _country_.” The response did nothing to change the set of the girl's expression, jaw still just as stubbornly clenched as it had been before.  
  
“Man, you were right,” Emma muttered from where she sat in one of the big chairs as Cal moved over to her, “They really are pissed.”  
  
“Emma,” Octavia scolded, surprised by her daughter's word choice, and the girl just shook her head. “Sorry Mom, but look at them; they're not angry, they're pissed.” Cal muttered his agreement, flopping down in the chair nearly on top of her, making her grin as she squished over and made room for him. Jonas, in the other chair, nodded, looking back and forth between Tris and Skylar, and the twins laughed at their sister's choice of word, finding it absolutely hilarious as seven year olds so often do.  
  
“So what's up?” Raven asked, glancing between the rightly-labeled daughters and their mothers. Grin growing, she continued, “Trouble in Griffin-Woods paradise?”  
  
“Mum's ex might start working at the hospital with her,” Tris grumbled, once again crossing her arms over her chest. Raven's grin dropped, head cocking to the side.  
  
“Which ex?” she asked, trying to think who Clarke had been with who could work at a hospital, and then looked sheepishly at the blonde as Tris all but shouted, “ _Which_ ex? How many are there?!”  
  
“Really not helpful, Raven,” Clarke muttered between clenched teeth. “Really not helpful.” She frowned then, actually thinking her friend's question over, and shot her a look like she'd gone crazy. “And what do you mean, 'which ex?' Other than Jaime, who did I date that could work in a hospital?”  
  
“Ohh,” she said, drawing the sound out. “Right, him. I forgot about him.” Again Clarke shot her a look, saying, “I dated him for over three years! How could you have forgotten about him?” Raven just gave her a shrug, leaning back against the couch and folding her hands behind her head. “Eh, I never liked him, you knew that.” Clarke looked like she was about to say something, and then just shook her head, changing her mind.  
  
“You know what, I'm gonna go see if Mom needs help with dinner,” she decided, having absolutely no desire to talk about this anymore. Giving Raven a quick glare as she passed by, she added, “Please refrain from saying anything else that's going to make any of my children even angrier with me, or I'll get you back. Remember I have about thirty years of dirt on you, and no problem getting creative.” Raven wiggled her eyebrows at her, as though to say, “Challenge accepted,” and she just managed to refrain from letting out a frustrated sigh as she made her way into the kitchen.  
  
Lexa watched her wife exit the room, part of her wanting to follow to get away from anymore talk on this subject and the other part afraid to leave their kids alone with Raven. The decision was made for her as Tris frowned at Raven, asking, “How come you didn't like this Jaime guy?” A little curious herself, Lexa moved over to the couch, sitting on the arm next to Lincoln. As she sat he looked at her, lifting an eyebrow to check on her, and she gave him a reassuring nod, silently telling him she was fine.  
  
“Eh, it's not that I didn't like him I guess,” Raven answered her daughter, still leaning back and now looking up at the ceiling as she thought about her answer. “I just knew he was never gonna last. We all knew it, except him, poor guy.”  
  
“What'd ya mean?” Skylar asked, cocking her head to the side, and this time Octavia stepped in. “Jaime was a really nice guy, but we all knew he wasn't the person your mum wanted to be with.” Flashing Lexa a cheeky grin, she added, “She loved your ma too much to last with anyone else.”  
  
“If she didn't like him, why even date him?” Calvin wanted to know, for the first time really getting involved in this conversation. Everyone turned to him and he shrugged. “Shouldn't you just date someone you like?”  
  
“Oh she loved him,” Raven informed him, hands dropping back to her lap as she leaned forward, glancing around the room to look at each of the three Griffin-Woods children. “Jaime was the first person she fell for after she and Lexa broke up, but it was different.”  
  
“How?” Emma asked, her own curiosity pulling her into the conversation. Her eyes flickered to Lexa, still sitting on the arm of the couch and just listening, and asked her, “How was it different?”  
  
“I don't know what Clarke's relationship with Jaime was like,” she answered honestly, meeting the girl's curious look. “I have never met Jaime. Clarke and I didn't see each other while they were dating, and we only talked once a year when we were in college, on Christmas. When we did talk, it was just to check that the other was alright and happy.” She remembered those Christmas phone calls, the singular moment she'd always dreaded and wished for throughout the entire year. They were seldom more than an awkward attempt at communication, the last thread of keeping each in the other's life.  
  
Raven leaned dramatically against Octavia, elbowing her side lightly as she smirked. “Really you guys should be thanking your Aunt Octavia and I; we're the ones that really got your moms back together.” Octavia returned the smirk with a grin, an arm going around Raven's shoulders. “Oh yeah,” she agreed, pulling them both back to lean against the couch, “It was definitely our genius planning that did it.”  
  
“Clexa's biggest fans, right here,” Raven agreed, gesturing between them while Lexa rolled her eyes and the Birch kids and Calvin all laughed. Skylar smiled, for the first time in days, and even Tris seemed to lighten up a little, her shoulders loosening.  
  
“While you certainly butted into our love life more than most, you aren't the reason Clarke and I got back together,” Lexa argued, knowing they'd had this conversation before. Like before, both of the women gave her a look, smirking as they each lifted an eyebrow at her, and Lexa thought it was actually a little concerning that they somehow managed to give her the look at the exact same moment.  
  
“Oh yeah?” Octavia countered, “Whose wedding brought you two back together for the first time in years?”  
  
“ _And_ whose brilliant idea was it to put you two in a room together at the hotel so you could-” Raven began, and then glanced around the room at the many children listening intently, and changed what she'd been about to say at the last second. “-Spend some quality time together and catch up?”  
  
“You helped, certainly,” Lexa agreed, even as she nearly rolled her eyes, “And yes the wedding was the catalyst that brought us back into each other's lives, but Clarke and I did have some say in our relationship.” Octavia reached over her husband, and gave her leg a light pat.  
  
“You just keep thinking that, Lexa,” she told her, causing the other woman to give her a little scowl. Raven grinned and then stood up, linking her fingers in front of her and pushing her hands forward, as though she were about to take on some great challenge. “Alright, you know what this calls for?” she said, ignoring Lexa's scowl and instead looking around the room at everyone but her. “Time to tell the tale of Clexa! Our own little version of _Romeo and Juliet_ , but with a much happier ending!”  
  
Lincoln frowned. “When did their families hate each other?” he asked, not sure how one story really related to the other. “And when was their love forbidden?” She waved her hand at him, dismissing the questions even as she admitted, “Okay, so bad comparison, but it's still story time! Adults to the kitchen to get snackage while the kids rearrange the furniture for prime storytelling! Who wants popcorn?”  
  
“Me!” Skylar and Tris both called while the twins echoed, “Popcorn!,” all clearly excited by the snacks and the expected story. Lexa looked over at Raven, telling her, “Raven, you do remember we're here for dinner, yes? Which I imagine we will be eating shortly; now might not be the right time for snacks.” Raven met her look, arm sweeping out to encompass the kids in the room. “The masses have spoken,” she announced, ignoring the mother's argument. “Let them eat popcorn!” The children all cheered, easily feeding on her energy, and the parents there all just shrugged, none of them wanting to fight that battle. “Alright,” Raven told the kids while Octavia and Lexa both stood, “You guys get the room set up, we'll be back shortly.” Octavia glanced down at her husband, still relaxing on the couch, and asked, “You coming?”  
  
“I'll stay here and oversee the rearranging,” he replied, flashing her a smile. “Try to keep Abby's living room in one piece.” Even as he spoke, their twins ran right to the coffee table in front of one of the chairs, grabbing it and trying to move it without clearing it off first. He darted off the couch and caught the vase on top just before it could topple over and break. Watching her husband move, Octavia grinned. “Good call,” she agreed, and then told the twins, “Guys, careful with Nana's furniture, you don't want to break anything.” They just shot her big smiles as they continued to move the coffee table, only slowing down a little. Leaving Lincoln to oversee the living room, she turned and followed Raven and Lexa into the kitchen.  
  
Clarke, Abby and Gustus all looked up from where they'd been sitting at the table as the other three moved into the kitchen, and neither Clarke or Abby missed the mischievous grin on Raven's face.  
  
“What's going on?” the blonde asked suspiciously, barely even taking a moment to glance at her wife walking towards her in order to keep an eye on the mechanic instead. Nevertheless she leaned into it when Lexa's arms wrapped around her shoulders, nudging her arm lightly with the side of her head.  
  
“We're getting snacks!” Raven declared, moving right to the cupboards and opening one, grabbing a couple of bags of popcorn and taking them out. “We're having story time, and you can't tell a story without proper snacks.”  
  
“Raven, may I remind you we'll be having dinner soon?” Abby pointed out, tone mild, but Clarke could hear the amusement in it. The younger woman shot her a grin even as she ripped the plastic off the first bag. “I know Abby, that's why I'm only making a couple of bags; everyone'll still be plenty hungry for your amazing cooking.” She paused then, looking down at the already partially opened bag. “Uh, you don't mind, right?” she asked, holding it out and looking at the woman who'd always been more of a mother to her than her actual one. Abby's lips curled up into an easy smile, head shaking as she replied, “No Raven, I don't mind; you know you're always welcome to anything in this kitchen.” The mechanic grinned, giving her a salute, and then turned to pop the first bag in the microwave.  
  
Clarke tilted her head up, giving her wife a look.  
  
“Popcorn Lexa?” she asked. “Really? Right before dinner?” The brunette met her look with an entirely straight face, telling her, “We do what we must, Clarke. You only have one of our daughters unhappy with you at the moment. They're both upset with me; I need to start getting points back somewhere. I decided not to fight it.” She grinned then, glancing over at the tray of rolls she saw on the counter, and leaned down, her head resting on Clarke's shoulder. “Besides, if they fill up on popcorn that means more rolls for us. I'm still quite certain I can eat more than you.” The blonde returned the grin, leaning back against her wife. “Oh, it's on,” she said, readily accepting the challenge.  
  
“So I take it you told them about Jaime,” Abby inferred, glancing over at her daughter and daughter-in-law. She'd chosen not to say anything when Clarke came in earlier, clearly reading her daughter's expression, but couldn't keep quiet anymore. As they both looked over to her, grins falling away, she added, “They weren't particularly happy about it, I see.”  
  
“No,” Lexa agreed, letting out a small sigh. “No, they were not happy at all. I've been getting the silent treatment from both of my daughters for two days now.” Her father let out a little laugh, leaning back in his chair, and she looked over to see him grinning.  
  
“I'm willing to bet they learned that from you,” he mused, arms folding in front of him as he lightly stroked his beard. His eyes twinkled as she frowned, looking at him curiously, and continued, “I remember one time when you were probably eight, you gave me the silent treatment for an entire week.” Her eyes widened, lips parting in surprise, and he let out another laugh. “I think it was because I told you you couldn't go to Anya's one night.”  
  
“I... don't remember that,” she told him, and he shook his head, not at all surprised. “Of course you don't,” he replied, “But I do. Parents always remember these kinds of things longer than their kids do.”  
  
“Tell that to Tris and Skylar,” Clarke muttered, head falling back against her wife. “Those two just can't let this go.”  
  
“I would prefer it if Skylar would stop going around and making it sound like I kiss dance teachers everywhere,” Lexa agreed, ignoring what sounded an awful lot like suppressed laughter from Raven and Octavia over by the microwave. When Abby began to frown and then caught herself, trying not to look curious, her daughter saw it and informed her, “Lexa's first girlfriend was a dancer too, who then happened to be Skylar's dance teacher two years ago. She found that out during all of this too and now is mad at Lexa for kissing her, even though it was years ago.”  
  
“And they're both mad at me for breaking up with you, and Tris is mad that neither of us are upset that Clarke's ex may end up working at the hospital,” Lexa continued, filling them all in with the basic details. She frowned then, and added, “I believe Skylar is upset about that as well, but she's very focused on the kissing thing.”  
  
Abby leaned forward, her hand resting on Clarke's as she flashed an encouraging smile at both of them. “It can be hard for children to think of their parents with anyone else,” she told them, giving her daughter's hand a squeeze. “When you're little, parents aren't people, they're just your parents. It isn't until you get to be older that you start seeing they're just as much human as you are. I don't think anyone's more protective of their parents' relationship than their kids. Think how you would have felt if you'd ever thought I was working with any of my exes.” Clarke frowned, never having really thought about her mother before she met her father, and then gave her a look.  
  
“You don't work with any of your exes, right?” she asked, and then had another thought and clarified, “ _I_ don't work with any of your exes, right?” Working with her own ex was one thing, but working with her mother's ex without knowing about it would be something entirely different. Her mother's smile grew and Clarke's eyes widened until she started shaking her head.  
  
“No, but you have met one of them before,” she replied, and watched as her daughter's frown deepened. She looked at all four of the other women in the room, telling them, “In fact, you've all met him before.”  
  
“We have?” Raven asked, momentarily distracted from the beeping microwave, and Octavia asked, “Who?” Lexa simply continued to look at her, only the smallest crease between her eyebrows giving away her curiosity.  
  
“Marcus,” she answered simply, folding her arms on the table in front of her, smiling slightly as she waited for their reaction. “Marcus?” Clarke repeated, the name meaning nothing to her even as she wracked her brain, trying to place it. Raven and Lexa looked equally as lost, not sure who they knew with that name, and then after a few seconds she watched as Octavia's face lit up in surprise and a little bit of thrill.  
  
“Marcus?” she said, and then, “You mean Marcus Kane?” The man still taught at their old high school, now colleagues with Lincoln, and since she worked in the middle school it meant she saw him often enough to quickly recognize the name. Seeing the way Abby's smile grew, eyebrows lifting, she knew she was right. “Holy shit. Holy _shit_!” she exclaimed, pushing away from the counter she'd been leaning against near Raven and practically running over to the table. “You _dated_ Marcus Kane?!”  
  
“You dated my economics teacher?” Clarke demanded, jaw dropping, never in a million years expecting that answer. Her mother turned to her and nodded to the woman still standing behind her. “I'll tell you the same thing your wife has been saying: I dated him _before_ getting together with your father. Marcus and I were high school sweethearts. We broke up before high school ended and then I met Jake in college.”  
  
“I can't,” Clarke began, and then shook her head. “I need a second to process this.” Ignoring the stunned blonde, Octavia slid into one of the free chairs at the table, smirking at the woman across from her. “You know Abby, Kane's still single,” she informed her lightly. “He looks pretty good, too. I'd bet he'd be happy to see you again.” That was enough to pull Clarke out of her stupor, and the glare she shot at Octavia would have terrified anyone other than one of her best friends.  
  
“I can kill you,” she warned, the words spoken in what could easily have been either a promise or a threat. “With just a scalpel, I can kill you, and no one would know it was murder.”  
  
“And some people can never see their parents as regular people, just their parents,” Raven teased, tone so light she was almost singing. Popping the last bag into the microwave and punching the time in, she called over her shoulder, “But I say do it Abby. You totally deserve to have a little fun. Maybe there's a reason he's still single.” As though she could see her expression, Octavia wiggled her eyebrows, still unshaken beneath Clarke's withering glare.  
  
Abby tried not to grin, but knew she was failing. “Thank you both, but I'm fine right now,” she told them, also not breaking beneath her daughter's look. Returning to the subject at hand, she turned back to the blonde, telling her, “But you can understand why your daughters are upset, sweetie. They'll move past it, but they need time to process the idea that their mothers weren't always together.”  
  
“And we're going to help!” Raven declared, whirling around and looking towards the table. “It's about time your kids knew your story.”  
  
“Our story?” Clarke questioned, raising an eyebrow, and Lexa told her in a monotone voice, “Raven has decided they need to hear the story of how we got together. Apparently we are Romeo and Juliet.” Her wife frowned. “Why exactly would we want to be Romeo and Juliet? That's a terrible love story.”  
  
“Okay, I get it, bad comparison,” Raven admitted, pulling the last bag of popcorn out of the microwave and tossing it to the counter quickly, fingers running together as though she may have slightly burned herself. She opened another cupboard and began grabbing bowls, even as she said, “But come on, Clexa is a pretty great story, you gotta admit. It's got a little bit of everything: humor, heartbreak, a happy ending, sex-”  
  
“Sex?” Clarke interrupted, giving her friend a look. “You are going to be telling the PG version of the story, right Raven?” The mechanic smirked, dumping the bags of popcorn in the bowls and then carrying them over to the table. “Sure!” she agreed, lightly pushing Lexa out of the way so that she could sling an arm over the blonde's shoulder. “We'll tell the PG version to the kids now, and can have the more fun version later when they're all distracted.” Shooting a smug look over at Lexa, she quickly turned towards Abby and Gustus, telling them, “By the way, did you guys know one of Lexa's talents is climbing trees?” The two parents looked at each other and then her uncertainly, Abby shaking her head and Gustus nodding, while she felt Lexa glare at her, taking a step towards her. Before the other brunette could do or say anything, she continued, “Yeah, maybe after dinner she'd be willing to show us. Oh, but we'd have to make sure the window to Clarke's old bedroom is open first!”  
  
“Raven!” Clarke exclaimed, feeling her cheeks begin to heat up. The look Lexa gave the mechanic would have made even the toughest Marine wet their pants. “I can kill you,” she told her, her voice as sharp as a knife's edge. “With my bare hands. No one would ever know it was murder.”  
  
“Aww, look at that,” Octavia cooed, pushing herself up from the table. “Those kids have nothing to worry about: the couple that threatens murder together, stays together.” She reached forward, grabbing a piece of popcorn and tossed it into the air, catching it in her mouth. Winking at Raven, she left the room, heading back to see if the kids had finished rearranging the living room. Flashing another prize-winning grin at the family around the table, Raven turned on her heel and followed her.  
  
An awkward silence hung around the table for a second, and then Abby stood up, turning to Gustus. “What do you say we go hear a story?” she asked, markedly avoiding the subject hanging over them and giving her old friend a smile. “Yes,” he agreed, his chair squeaking against the floor as he stood as well. “I think that sounds like an excellent idea.” The two moved around the table, giving their daughters nothing but polite smiles as they passed, but before they left the room Clarke and Lexa both heard Gustus inform Abby quietly, “Her mother is the one that taught her to climb trees; I was always afraid she'd fall and break something.”  
  
“One of these days I'm actually going to kill them,” Clarke promised, her cheeks still hot. Her wife stepped up to her, offering her her hand, and when she took it she looked up, meeting the completely straight face Lexa gave her. “When you decide to do it, please let me know,” she told her, helping the blonde up. “I'll help you. Together I believe we could get rid of the bodies in a way no one would ever find them, much less be able to ID them.”  
  
“It's a date,” Clarke agreed, grinning, and then looked towards the living room. Letting out a sigh, she gave Lexa a look, an eyebrow quirking up. “What do you think? Ready to go hear our story, as told by our idiot friends?” Lexa gave her a small smile and then gestured forward, telling her, “Lead the way.” Together, they exited the kitchen, finding the kids all sitting on the floor in the living room and looking forward at Raven and Octavia, one standing at each side of the couch. Abby, Gustus and Lincoln all sat to the side in chairs, watching the scene unfold before them, trying not to let their amusement show too much.  
  
“There you are!” Raven exclaimed, rolling her eyes at them. She gestured to the couch, a spot open between the two of them, and told the couple, “Let's go, we can't start our story without its stars!”  
  
“You are way too excited about this,” Clarke grumbled, but did as she was told, leading Lexa to the couch and the two sat so that Raven and Octavia stood on either side of them. Raven ignored them, and the moment they were sitting turned back to her audience.  
  
“Okay,” she told them, hands out in front of her and gesturing as she spoke. “Now kiddos, our story starts in high school. I know it'll be hard, but I want you to try to picture these two as gawky teenagers. It was a long time ago, I know, but try.”  
  
“You are not helping your case, Raven,” Lexa informed her, even as Clarke said, “Hey, you're older than I am, Raven! And I was never gawky, thank you very much.” One of the mechanic's hands shot back, nearly bludgeoning Lexa in the face but just far enough away to miss.  
  
“Quiet from the stars!” she scolded, not even looking back at them. “This isn't your story to tell; Auntie Raven's talking.”  
  
“This is literally our story to tell,” Clarke argued, and this time it was Octavia that reached out, silencing her with just the gesture. “Shh!” she said, “You can add to the story as we go, but right now we're talking.” Clarke let out a little grumble, whatever she said too quiet to make out, and then leaned back heavily against the couch, holding up her hands in surrender and giving the power to her crazy friends. Lexa couldn't help but smile slightly, and then leaned back with her, one hand moving to slip into Clarke's.  
  
“Okay, like I was saying,” Raven began again, refocusing on the audience of children in front of her. “It's high school, we're all about sixteen, and we're just starting our Junior year. We've all been going to school together for pretty much ever, but we've never really spoken much with Lexa. Clarke over here has been a little moody since the summer ended, but now suddenly she's all sunshine and rainbows again, and O and I know something's up.”  
  
“She's been sneaking away from us whenever she can, and we know it's to meet some mystery person,” Octavia continues, easily picking up the story from Raven. “Naturally we're trying to figure out who it is.” She pointed to the mechanic. “ _She_ thinks it's my brother, but that grosses me out too much to even think about.”  
  
“Hey, it was a totally valid guess at the time!” Raven argued, turning to Octavia. “You know Bellamy would totally have been up for it!”  
  
“Mum and Uncle Bellamy?” Tris asked, scrunching up her nose, many of the others doing the same thing. “Ewww,” Skylar said, drawing the sound out, and both Clarke and Lexa grinned. “Agreed,” they said at the same time, and nearly started laughing.  
  
“Okay, whatever, I was wrong, let's move along,” Raven insisted, trying to get the story back on track. “So anyway, we're trying to figure out who the mystery person is, and then we kind of accidentally crash their date, but hey, it all worked out for the best.”  
  
With many more interruptions, Raven and Octavia told the PG version of Clarke and Lexa's story – the other adults in the room only having to loudly clear their throats a couple of times to make sure Raven in fact did stick to the PG version – and as the story continued the two mothers watched as their daughters' expressions changed. Surprise replaced anger and then shock replaced surprise, and soon just about every spectrum of emotions had danced across their faces. By the time Abby declared dinner must be ready, Skylar had moved to sit on both of her mothers' laps, still listening to her aunts tell the story in quiet fascination. Raven didn't stop, just kept telling about how Clarke and Lexa finally started writing back and forth after Octavia's wedding as the entire group moved into the kitchen, and the story continued as they ate. Tris didn't think anything of it when her Nana set her between her mothers and Skylar refused to leave Lexa's lap, and Clarke and Lexa gave each other a little smile as the story continued on.  
  
Silently, they agreed; they could let Raven and Octavia live a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long time between updates; this chapter did not want to come together at all. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. If you haven't read "The Note: Twelve Years of Christmas," there are a couple of small moments in this chapter that might not have made a lot of sense, so I'd recommend giving it a read to pull it all together. Thanks for your patience, and I will see you again soon, my lovely readers!


	11. Chapter Eleven - Birthday Bash

_Five Years Earlier_

_“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you...”_  
  
_This morning Tris is grinning before she's even fully awake. On the other side of the room she can hear her baby sister moving, and when she cracks her eyes open the first thing she sees is Sky, crawling to the bars of her crib and grabbing onto them. The baby is grinning, eyes focused on something else, and Tris doesn't need to follow her gaze to know what it is._  
  
_“Happy birthday my big girl, happy birthday to you!”_  
  
_Her mom finishes the song and plops down at the end of her bed, a cupcake held out between them with a single flickering candle. Tris quickly glances down at the cupcake and her grin only grows: it's chocolate, her very favorite. The dessert that's going to be her breakfast is placed into her hands, and then she's looking up again, staring excitedly at her mother._  
  
_“Well what do you think, huh?” she asks, flashing her oldest daughter a smile. “How does it feel to be five whole years old? You ready to start paying rent yet?” She nods towards the cupcake, adding, “Make a wish baby and blow out your candle.”_  
  
_“Sky's the only baby now!” Tris exclaims excitedly as she pushes herself to her knees, because really, it's true. Being five means taking on loads more responsibilities, it's practically being a grown up. Her mom just grins, trying to give her a serious nod. “Well yeah,” she agrees, “You're all grown up! Now make a wish.” Tris clenches her eyes shut, thinks of her wish, and then blows, the flame flickering out, and before the smoke even begins to curl in the air her mother is clapping and standing up again._  
  
_“Nice job!” she exclaims while she crosses the small distance to Skylar's crib, the same crib Tris used to sleep in way back when she still was a baby. “Now come on; there are four more of those cupcakes waiting for us!” Skylar is already reaching up by the time she makes it over, and Tris watches carefully as her mother scoops her from her bed. She settles the baby easily in her arms, turning around and giving her oldest daughter another grin before she heads out of the room, and Tris scurries out of bed behind her, trying to watch her the whole time. Her mom seems fine at the moment, so she's pretty sure she hasn't been using the stuff yet, but Tris remembers the other day when she wasn't paying attention and her mom almost dropped Sky. As the Big Sister, it's her job to keep an eye on her mom and baby sister. They're her Responsibility._  
  
_As soon as she's in the kitchen, Tris sees the line of cupcakes on the counter, all chocolate, and she's still grinning as her mom swipes one while balancing the baby on her hip. She watches while her mother sticks her finger in the frosting, and then she's letting the baby suck it off, Skylar giving a little squeal of delight the moment the chocolate touches her tongue._  
  
_“I think Sky's a fan of chocolate too,” her mother says, looking up while Tris hurries over to the counter. She grabs her cooking chair, sliding it against the counter, and swiftly pulls herself up, now just about at the same level as her mother._  
  
_“Duh,” Tris tells her, flashing a smile at her baby sister, “Course she does! She's my baby sister! She's like me.” Without another word, she takes a big bite of her cupcake, can feel the frosting smearing along her lips, and she feels the happiness fluttering in her belly as her mom just laughs._  
  
_It's a good start to her fifth birthday._  
  
The memory's a good one. That part of it, at least. Sure, after a couple of hours her mother had shut herself in her room like she did most days, closing the door and leaving Tris to take care of Skylar, but that had been fine. It was Tris's responsibility to take care of her baby sister, and she'd always done it happily.  
  
Tris pulled her knees closer to her chest, sitting on her bed and staring out the window, and let the memory overtake her. She could remember the cupcakes, five of them, one for each birthday her mother had said, the laughter from her mother and sister, and the absolute joy she'd felt in that moment. She'd had her mother, _really_ had her mother, and that's all she'd needed. It didn't matter that there weren't any presents, didn't matter that later that night she made herself mac n' cheese after feeding her sister because the door to her mom's room was still shut, all that mattered was that they'd had that morning together. She wanted that back. For a second she looked away from the window, eyes trailing to the picture hanging on the wall Clarke had painted for them before they'd moved in, and just glared at it. This wasn't her home, and she didn't _want_ it to be; she wanted the home they'd had with their mom.  
  
A soft knock on the closed door tugged her out of her thoughts, and then it was opening and her focus shifted over to it, finding Calvin sticking his head in the room. He looked straight at her, an excited grin on his face.  
  
“Well?” he asked, forcing the door open further so he could step into the room. “Are you ready?” She rolled her eyes, not nearly as excited as he was which was kind of weird because it was _her_ birthday, and pushed herself off the bed. “I guess,” she mumbled, giving a shrug, and he made his way over to her, grabbing her hand and tugging her towards the door before she could stop him. “Come on Tris, it's gonna be fun, I promise!” She rolled her eyes, no more convinced than she'd already been, but let him pull her out of her room and down the stairs.  
  
They found Clarke and Lexa both in the kitchen, Clarke just finishing up the last touches on her cake while Lexa stood to the side and watched, bouncing Skylar lightly in her arms. Both women looked up as they entered, and Tris watched as their lips curled up into immediate smiles.  
  
“Happy birthday!” they chorused for what was at least the third time. Tris wanted to roll her eyes again but refrained, instead forcing herself to give them a little smile. Nothing about the way she felt made her want to celebrate anything, but she figured she could at least try. If nothing else, the cake in front of Clarke was chocolate with chocolate frosting, which was her favorite, so there was one good thing about the day.  
  
“You ready to party?” the blonde asked her with a grin, still carefully looping purple icing on the cake. “People should be getting here anytime.”  
  
“Sure,” she said, unable to quite fake the enthusiasm she was going for, but no one commented on it. “Why don't you go into the living room and take out some games to play once Emma and Jonas get here?” Lexa suggested, nodding towards the other room. “Just no opening your presents yet.” Tris shrugged and then nodded, perking up just a little at “presents,” and made her way into the living room without another word. Calvin followed her, flashing his mothers a little smile. Pauna, who'd been sitting at her mother's feet and begging for a taste of the cake, trotted along after them, apparently deciding the blonde wasn't going to budge.  
  
Lexa watched them go, following their movement as they began to go through games in the living room, and frowned.  
  
“Maybe a big party wasn't the best idea,” she said quietly, stepping closer to the counter. Even in the other room, she could still see the little crease along Tris's forehead, and could tell she wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea. Next to her, Clarke glanced over towards the living room as well, and then shrugged a single shoulder.  
  
“Hopefully once people are here she'll be more excited,” she replied, eyes trailing back to the cake as she finished spelling out “ _TRIS_ ” in purple icing. “She always manages to have fun with Jonas and Emma, even when she's trying not to.” Placing the plastic bag she'd been using to scrawl the lettering along the cake's surface on the counter, she just stared at it for a second before adding softly, “I just want her surrounded by people who love her today.”  
  
At the tone of her wife's voice, Lexa's focus left their daughter and shifted to the blonde, noticing the way she stared at the cake. “What about you?” she asked gently, taking a step closer to Clarke. “How are you feeling?”  
  
It'd only been a little over a week since Jake's funeral, and since then Clarke had spent most of her time in the house with her family, away from the outside world. She'd seen others, of course: Octavia and Raven had both been over a handful of times since then, and Abby had spent a considerable amount of time with them, but it was the first major family event since her father's death. Lexa knew it was going to be a hard day for the blonde, even if Clarke was trying to pretend otherwise.  
  
“I'm... okay, I guess,” she answered, finally looking up from the cake. “I kinda have to be, right?”  
  
“No,” Lexa told her, shifting Skylar to her other side so she could reach out and slip her fingers through Clarke's. “Everyone will understand if you need some time today, Clarke. If you need to disappear for a few minutes, I'll be able to handle things.” The blonde squeezed her fingers, giving her wife a grateful smile, and then let out a long breath.  
  
“I think I'll be okay, Lexa,” she assured her. “It's Tris's birthday, and that's all I want to focus on.” She glanced around the kitchen, and gave in, “Though it really helps we're having the party here; I know my mom's place would have fit everyone better, but I just... I can't do that yet.” She hadn't been back to her childhood home since she found out about her father, had a hard time even thinking about the house she'd grown up in without breaking down a little. Lexa tugged on her hand, lifting it to her face, and gave the back of it a light kiss, eyes bright as she tried to distract her wife and Clarke couldn't help the way her lips turned up at the sight.  
  
“I'm glad we're having the party here as well,” she agreed. “It makes everything a little easier.” Clarke nodded, an all-too familiar ache tugging at her gut, but tried to ignore it. Today wasn't a day to mourn her father but rather celebrate the amazing little girl who'd come into their lives, and she had every intention to focus on nothing but that. Glancing down as she began to pull back a little, her eyes fell on the bowl of chocolate frosting on the counter between them, and then the ache in her gut fell away as a spark of mischief took its place.  
  
Before Lexa could react, Clarke's fingers had slipped through hers, a fact she didn't think much about until she jerked back, eyes crossing to stare at the dollop of chocolate icing suddenly painting the tip of her nose. Even as Skylar began laughing against her, clearly amused by the blonde's antics, Lexa lifted an eyebrow, giving her wife a look as Clarke just grinned, already sucking her finger clean of the chocolatey evidence.  
  
“Clarke,” Lexa let out, her tone caught somewhere between a laugh and an exasperated sigh, and blue eyes just met hers, bright and clearly amused.  
  
“Yes Lexa?” Clarke asked, faux innocence coating her tone. Before the brunette could say anything else Skylar's fist waved between them, a wide grin plastered on her face. “Me!” she exclaimed, still laughing. “Me!”  
  
“You, huh?” Clarke said, smiling over at the toddler. “Well okay...” Her finger dipped back into the bowl of leftover frosting and then she quickly dabbed it against Skylar's nose, the little girl shrieking in delight.  
  
“Yes, let's teach her to play with her food,” Lexa muttered, rolling her eyes, but couldn't quite hide it as the corners of her mouth quirked up. Clarke just shot her a grin and she found herself shaking her head, shifting Skylar slightly before reaching up and wiping the chocolate from her nose.  
  
Suddenly Pauna padded into the room, her focus on the opposite doorway and all attention directed towards the front of the house before letting out a little _buff_ , the closest she ever came to barking. That was the only warning they got, and then they heard their front door open, two sets of footsteps almost immediately making their way down the hall.  
  
“Alright, time to get this party started!” Raven exclaimed as she made her way into the kitchen, a gift lifted over her head. “Where's the birthday girl?” Clarke gestured to the living room where she could still see Calvin and Tris, the girl seeming to get more and more interested in the little stack of presents already spread out in front of one of the bookshelves with every passing minute. Raven followed the gesture and grinned, clearly seeing the same thing the blonde had, and headed straight into the other room, calling out as she went, “Hey, who's excited for their birthday?!”  
  
Abby followed Raven into the room with a much more controlled demeanor, but even so the two mothers caught her smile. That smile only grew as she looked over to them, eyes falling to first Skylar's nose and then Lexa's.  
  
“I see we've already begun digging into the cake,” she stated, shifting the strap of the large bag she carried against her shoulder. Moving towards the three of them, she pointed to the side of Lexa's nose, telling her, “You've got a little something right there.”  
  
Lexa followed the motion, wiping another little streak of frosting away all while sending a little glare at her wife. “You weren't going to tell me I missed a spot, were you?” Clarke just shot her another grin and quickly leaned over, leaving a loud kiss against her cheek before taking the toddler from her. Lexa looked back at her mother-in-law, tone dry as she informed her, “Your daughter decided to teach our toddler how to paint someone's face with frosting.” Abby met her look, telling her in the same tone, “I'm not at all surprised; I swear Clarke always played with her food more than she ate it when she was little. I guess she hasn't grown out of that yet.”  
  
“Nope,” the blonde in question stated before blowing a raspberry against Skylar's cheek, causing another delighted shriek. She wiped the frosting off her nose then, letting the toddler suck it off her finger, and smiled as the little girl let out a happy hum. While Sky cleaned the frosting away, she looked back over at her mother, eyes glancing at the bag hanging from her shoulder. “Please tell me those aren't all presents,” she said, giving her mother a look, and Abby lifted her head a little higher.  
  
“I'm allowed to spoil my granddaughter, especially on her first birthday with us,” she replied easily. “She deserves a little spoiling.” Clarke could have tried arguing but knew she'd just be a hypocrite; she and Lexa may have gone a little overboard with the gifts too.  
  
The Birch family showed up next, the twins leading the way as they ran through the kitchen and into the living room, Andy nearly falling when he forgot about the step down from one room to the other. Emma and Jonas followed behind them, Jonas only able to hold his excitement in check a little better than his little siblings, and Emma rolling her eyes at all three of them. The two older siblings carried their family's contributions to the stack of presents growing ever-larger in the living room, and as Emma passed her Abby handed her her bag, asking her to add them to the pile too. Octavia and Lincoln brought up the rear, both clearly more than happy to let their brood go play and have some time with the adults. Bellamy wasn't far behind them, grinning as he walked into the room, and Gustus arrived only a minute or so later, his own bag of presents with him that made Clarke and Lexa realize maybe they really had gone a little overboard. Monty showed up with Jasper and Maya, and as the three walked in all eyes were drawn to the sleeping bundle curled up against his mother's shoulder, baby Wyatt still clearly not ready to wake up from his nap.  
  
The house quickly descended into noisy chaos. The kids all gathered in the living room, the four oldest getting absorbed in the games Tris and Calvin had picked out earlier while most of the adults remained in the kitchen, catching up and laughing. At Skylar's obvious insistence, Clarke broke away from the adults, going into the living room and sitting next to Raven on the couch where the mechanic was somehow managing to entertain the twins. Skylar stood in front of the blonde, leaning back against her legs and turning away whenever one of the twins approached her, but otherwise stood happily observing everything going on around her. Pauna made her way over, sitting next to the toddler and letting the little girl pet her, not bothered at all when the pets got a little rough.  
  
“Easy Sky,” Clarke reminded her at one point, gently covering her hand and running it carefully over the dog's head. “Remember you don't want to hurt her.” The little girl looked back and flashed her a big grin, before returning her attention to the dog, her movements a little slower now.  
  
“Pauna, you're such a good girl,” Raven told her, reaching across Clarke's lap to give the dog a scratch behind her good ear. “PauPau!” Olivia exclaimed, her attention clearly now drawn to the dog, and then she and her brother were petting her too, little fingers running through her fur. Pauna's tongue just fell out of the side of her mouth, turning and giving her mother her happy grin.  
  
“She certainly is,” Clarke agreed, also giving the dog a quick scratch, before Skylar turned around and began trying to climb up on her lap, clearly wanting to put a little space between herself and the rambunctious twins. “Alright, come here,” the mother said, reaching down and hoisting her up on her lap, making the little girl let out a loud laugh. The laugh pulled Andy's attention, and seeing Skylar up and being held clearly made him jealous.  
  
“Aunie Raben!” he exclaimed, ditching the dog to run over to his aunt, scrambling up her lap the moment he was in front of her. Olivia let her brother go, still focused on the dog, while Raven leaned over and groaned, pulling him up. “Jeeze kid, what are your parents feeding you?” she all but demanded, and he grinned, standing on her legs as he exclaimed, “Cookies!” She winced a little but barely let it show, lifting him enough so she could shift his weight away from her bad leg.  
  
Clarke noticed the wince but didn't comment on it, knowing Raven wouldn't want to talk about it. Instead she shot a smile at Andy, telling him, “I bet your parents feed you more than just cookies.” He shook his head and laughed, clearly just feeling giggly, and Clarke's smile grew a little as she felt Skylar settle against her front. Looking down, she found the toddler looking out over the room, perfectly content just to sit back and watch everything from the safety of the blonde's lap. She leaned forward, pressing a light kiss against red curls, and let herself look across the room too.  
  
Calvin was grinning at Emma while the little girl rolled her eyes, clearly not agreeing with whatever her little brother was saying at the moment, but the blonde could tell Tris wasn't really paying attention to her friends. Every now and then she'd catch the little girl looking to the side, eyeing her presents, and couldn't quite stop the way her lips quirked up at seeing it. Whatever had been bothering Tris earlier clearly had been pushed back, either by the three kids around her or by the promise of the gifts waiting for her, and Clarke was more than happy to see the pain from earlier wiped away.  
  
A sharp elbow to her side pulled her attention away from the group of kids. “Ow,” she growled at Raven, giving her friend a glare as she rubbed at the spot her elbow had jabbed her. The look did nothing to dissuade the other woman, one of Raven's eyebrows up as she gave her a look. “Quit torturing the kid,” she ordered, nodding towards Tris. “Let her open her presents already. This is cruel and unusual punishment!” Clarke rolled her eyes, not breaking beneath the mechanic's look as she told her, “I'm not punishing her, I'm letting her play with her friends.” As Raven's look intensified, she felt her eyes roll a second time. “Alright, fine.”  
  
“Aw yeah!” the brunette exclaimed, pumping a fist up in the air. Looking over to the group of kids as they turned to her, she added just as loudly, “Alright Birthday Girl, who's ready to open some presents?”  
  
The question was loud enough for those still in the kitchen to hear, and soon everyone was crowding into the living room, Clarke shooting a smile up at her wife as Lexa moved over to sit on the arm of the couch next to her. Tris moved over to the stack of presents, clearly both excited and nervous to open them with everyone watching. Lexa ended up on the floor next to her, reading her the cards and tags so she knew who each gift came from, and as Clarke watched the two together, she felt warmth spread through her chest. That warmth only intensified when Calvin edged closer, intent on seeing what his sister had gotten, until soon he was leaning against his mother's back, his arms wrapped loosely around her neck.  
  
Tris hadn't really known what to think when she walked into the living room and saw the pile of gifts. With every new person that pile had only grown, and the hurt she'd felt all morning from missing her mother had diminished a little as her curiosity overshadowed it. Before long Calvin and Jonas and Emma had been making her laugh, pushing that pain even farther away. Now with everyone watching her as she tore paper away from boxes, pulled toys or clothes or books from bags, she felt a strange feeling growing in her stomach. It felt warm, kinda, and that warmth bubbled up, spreading out past her stomach and into her arms and legs, rooting itself in her chest. The stuff she unwrapped was all really cool, definitely more presents than she'd ever had before, but more than that it felt weird to have so many people watching her, clearly happy just to see her happy. It was weird, yeah, but maybe a good kind of weird. This feeling in her chest was kind of nice, and she kind of hoped it wouldn't go away.  
  
“Alright,” she heard Clarke say behind her as she finished unwrapping the last present. She looked over her shoulder to see the blonde standing up, hoisting Sky up with her and making her sister laugh. “Now that we're done with presents, who wants some cake?”  
  
“Me!” Tris exclaimed, thinking about the chocolate cake with chocolate frosting she'd seen earlier. Her exclamation rang out with a number of others, and she couldn't help but grin as she looked over, seeing Raven and Octavia looking just as excited as she felt.  
  
“Okay, kids all pile around the table,” Clarke told them, leading the way back into the kitchen, Tris and the other kids all right behind her. Tris looked up in time to see the blonde look over her shoulder, adding, “Raven and Octavia, I think you count as kids right now.” She saw Octavia stick her tongue out, even as Raven replied, “Whatever, that just means I get cake faster.” While Clarke let out a laugh, Tris shook her head, wondering how these strange people had become a part of her life, and why that didn't bother her quite as much as it used to.  
  
The six kids all climbed up to the table, Raven and Octavia helping to get Andy and Olivia situated while Clarke buckled Skylar into her highchair. As the blonde turned away to get the cake, Tris looked beside her at her sister, catching her grin before she began banging her hands against the tray in front of her, clearly excited for what was coming next. Tris knew the feeling, and almost started banging with her.  
  
“Alright Tris,” she heard Clarke say, and she looked away from her sister to see the blonde walking towards her, the cake held out in front of her and its candles lit. She noticed Lexa behind the blonde, dropping a smoking match into the sink, before she turned around and met Tris's eye, giving her a bigger smile than the girl was used to seeing on the brunette. Clarke set the cake in front of her, everyone's focus following it, and Tris's eyes dropped to it. Across the top of the cake, purple letters were scrawled over the chocolate, and the blonde's finger skimmed above it as she read out loud, “Happy Sixth Birthday Tris!”  
  
“Make a wish and blow out your candles,” Lexa told her, moving up behind the little girl. Tris felt a twinge in her gut, remembering similar words from a year earlier, and clenched her eyes shut. _I wish my mom would come back_ , she silently thought, feeling the wish build inside her, and then her eyes opened and she blew. Each candle guttered out, smoke quickly curling lazily in the air above where flames had been just a second before, and with the smoke she felt her wish release, hopefully to be answered soon.  
  
Everyone at and around the table cheered, and Tris grinned, feeling lighter than she had all day. The warm feeling still pressed nicely in her chest, heavy enough for her to notice but not so heavy it felt like it was weighing her down, and now she'd made her birthday wish. Her mom had to find them now. With the smoke still curling in the air Lexa took the cake away to begin cutting into pieces, and only a moment later Clarke returned with a corner piece for her, the frosting clinging to it nearly making her mouth water.  
  
“Thanks,” she muttered quickly as the cake was set in front of her, too preoccupied with the dessert to really pay attention as the blonde's arm curled lightly around her shoulders and her lips pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “You're welcome, Tris,” she murmured before pulling away. “Happy birthday.” As Clarke stepped back to get the next piece of cake Lexa had ready, Tris grabbed her fork and took a big bite, grinning as the chocolate-on-chocolate burst against her taste buds. It had to be the best thing she'd ever tasted.  
  
Clarke carried two more pieces over to the table, putting one plate in front of Jonas, practically bouncing up and down in his chair on Tris's left, and then moving towards Skylar on her right. The toddler grinned, reaching out for the plate as the blonde placed it in front of her, hazel eyes bright. “Mummy!” she exclaimed, and Clarke stopped as she pulled back, eyes widening and lips parting in surprise. Behind her she felt Lexa freeze as well, clearly having heard the same thing she did.  
  
They weren't the only ones who'd heard.  
  
All at once, the cake turned to dust on her tongue, and it took every bit of control Tris had not to get sick. The warm feeling extinguished in her chest, to be replaced by a sharp, painful sting that began in her heart and then struck through her. Her mind went blank for just a second, what her sister had said ringing in her ears, and then it felt too full, thoughts and feelings tripping over themselves as she tried to understand what had just happened.  
  
Her hand shot out just as Skylar reached for her cake, striking against the plate and shoving it to the side, plate and cake both flying off of the tray. The plastic plate clattered to the floor as the cake landed frosting-side down. At the end of the table, Bellamy grabbed for Pauna just before the dog could launch herself at the lost dessert.  
  
“No!” Tris screamed, turning on her sister, too angry to notice the toddler immediately shrink back, eyes widening. “No! She's not our mom! Neither of them are! You can't call them that! No!” Too upset to even really think, she grabbed the plate in front of her, lifted it up, and then smashed it down, this plate breaking as it landed back on the table. She could feel frosting coating a few of her fingers, accidentally getting them in the cake, but ignored it. She screamed again, the sound quickly echoed by another cry, Skylar dissolving into scared tears, but for the first time in her life Tris didn't immediately try to make them stop. Instead she glared at her sister, the word still ringing in her ears. Rather than her go to the toddler, Clarke did, instantly moving to the highchair and freeing her from its buckles before lifting her to her chest. Tris watched as her sister buried her head against the blonde's neck, and the sight only made her more furious. Hands curling into painful fists, she shoved her chair back and then she was running out of the room and up the stairs.  
  
As soon as Tris was in her room with the door slammed shut behind her, she began to feel the tears build up at the corners of her eyes. She could feel them, hot and angry and just waiting for her to let them fall, but for a second she didn't, too upset to cry. She needed to do something else, needed to scream or hit or kick something, needed to make something hurt as much as she hurt. The feelings, the emotions building up inside her, in her chest and in her stomach and buzzing in her veins were too powerful for tears, too hot for water to cool. She needed something else, needed to do something, and when she glanced around the room she immediately knew what the moment her eyes landed on it. Without a second thought, she grabbed her pillow from her bed and then chucked it at the wall. The first hit wasn't powerful enough to knock the stupid painting down, but the second time she held onto the corner of the pillow, reaching with it to smash into the painting, and the force was just enough to knock the wire from the hook it hung on. The framed painting of the house and heart, the stupid dumb saying about love and home fell down, and then it landed on the carpet, barely anything more than a few cracks growing along the glass. The cracks not enough, Tris grabbed it with both hands and brought it down with all her strength, feeling a momentary flash of satisfaction as she heard the glass shatter against the carpeted floor.  
  
The door opened only a few moments later, but the person who stepped into the room wasn't either of the people she'd been expecting.  
  
“Go away,” she spat, fighting back the tears now and beginning to lose as the pain and anger continued to rush through her. Jonas completely ignored her, glaring as he stepped into the room.  
  
“Why'dya do that?” he demanded, fists falling to rest on his hips, his own anger obvious. “You scared your sister and hurt Clarke and Lexa's feelings!”  
  
“I don't care!” she yelled, hands now shaking down at her sides. “I don't care about them, they're not my mom!”  
  
“They wanna be!” Jonas yelled back, taking another step closer, clearly not at all intimidated by her fury. “They love you and just wanna take care of you! Auntie Lexa and Clarke are the best, but you're always so mean to them! It's not fair.”  
  
“Not fair?” Tris repeated, the words bubbling up almost in a laugh, but at the last second that laugh turned into a sob. “My mom's gone! She's gone, she left us and I don't know why!” Without being fully aware of it, the tears started to fall then, helpless streams dripping down her cheeks. “She just – she left and she hasn't come back and I don't know why. I don't know where she is, if she's looking for us. I dunno if she's even alive! I don't _want_ them to love me, I just want my mom back!”  
  
She moved, whether to step closer to him or further away she didn't really know, she just needed to move, and then took in a sharp breath as pain sliced through the bottom of her foot. Looking down, she saw the glass scattered around her on the floor, knew she must have stepped on a piece, but in a way it was almost a relief. Now the pain that had been whirling through her body had some place to go, and she didn't fight it as more tears welled up in her eyes, slipping down to follow the wet tracks along her face. Leaning back against her bed she picked her foot up, taking some of the pressure off the wound, but otherwise ignored it, instead glaring across the room at Jonas. He still glared at her too, but the look had fallen a little, more unsure than it had been, and his hands fell from his hips.  
  
“What if your mom doesn't come back?” he wanted to know, voice quieter now. She clenched her teeth at the thought, but he added, “It's really bad that she's gone and I'm sorry, but what if she doesn't? Are you always gonna hate them?” Tris looked away from him at that, wishing the little ball of guilt his words had caused to form in her stomach would go away, and found herself staring at the back of the painting, now laying in a pile of broken glass.  
  
“I don't hate them,” she mumbled, barely able to get the words out. It felt like a betrayal to her mom to say them, but it was true. Clarke and Lexa had been nice to her, nice to her sister; as much as she wanted to, she couldn't make herself hate them anymore, hadn't hated them for a while. That didn't mean she was ready to let go of her mother though.  
  
Jonas was busy studying her, clearly trying to figure out what else to say, when the door was pushed open further, and Tris had to look away again when she saw who it was. Quickly she wiped her face, not wanting the blonde to see her crying.  
  
“Jonas, your family's getting ready to go,” Clarke informed him, having to pull her focus away from Tris. All she wanted to do was figure out a way to help the little girl, but she wasn't entirely sure how to do that just yet, so she focused on him first. “I packed up some cake for you guys to take home with you. Why don't you go make sure your mom doesn't eat it all before you get there?” He smiled up at her and she returned it, before glancing back over to Tris. He looked at her for another second and then let out a little sigh, shoulders drooping a little.  
  
“Kay,” he finally just said, and then looked over to the girl across the room. “Happy birthday, Tris.” She barely acknowledged him, too distracted with trying to do nothing but glare at the blonde, and with another quick look at his aunt he left.  
  
For a second Clarke studied the scene before her, noticing the picture on the floor and the glass around it, followed by the little girl leaning against the bed. Glancing down at the way she held her foot, she could guess what had happened.  
  
“Come on,” she said, moving towards the bed and the girl leaning against it, watching where she stepped. “Let's take a look at your foot.” She held out her arms to lift her up over the broken glass, not wanting to take any chances of any more accidents, and for a second Tris hesitated before she rolled her eyes. The little girl pushed herself off the bed, wincing as her foot fell back to the floor, and allowed Clarke to lift her. She half expected her to put her back down as soon as they were away from the glass, but instead the blonde shifted her against her side, carrying her out of the room and into the bathroom at the end of the hall.  
  
For a few minutes, neither of them said anything. Clarke sat Tris on top of the toilet before rummaging through the cupboard beneath the sink for the first aid kit. Taking out what she needed, she knelt in front of the little girl, gingerly lifting her foot and taking a look at it. She could see the little piece of glass still embedded in her foot, and carefully began to pull it free with a pair of tweezers, glancing up at Tris when she let out a little noise at the pain. Giving her ankle a squeeze of encouragement, she worked quickly and efficiently, doing her best not to cause her any extra pain.  
  
“You know, I have a scar on my foot that looks a little like this,” she said suddenly, glancing up as she carefully washed out the wound. Tris rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her. “No you don't.” The cut now clear of glass, she stepped back for a second, leaning against the lip of the tub and pulled off her right sock, lifting her foot up for the little girl to see. Looking at it, Tris could see a faint line drawn down the ball of her foot, the scar nearly invisible.  
  
“What'd you do?” she asked, looking back up at the blonde as she put her foot down, returning her focus to the injured one in front of her. She held still as Clarke's gentle fingers pressed against her skin again, trying not to wince at the slice of pain she felt whenever the skin around the cut moved.  
  
“I wasn't paying attention,” Clarke answered absentmindedly, trying to determine the extent of the wound in front of her. It wasn't very long or particularly deep, and though it continued to bleed it was more of a steady trickle than anything else. “I thought Lexa had been hurt and dropped a bowl and then completely forgot about it and stepped on a piece of the glass. My friend had to give me a couple stitches.” She looked up from the foot then and gave the little girl a small smile. “It doesn't look like you'll need any though. We'll just get this covered up and let your body heal itself. I'm gonna need to keep checking it though to make sure it's healing, and if the pain doesn't go away I need you to tell me, okay?” Tris hesitated and then only nodded when the doctor gave her a look. “Okay.” Clarke gave her another smile and then turned back to the sink, grabbing the bottle of hydrogen peroxide she'd taken out along with the first aid kit. “This next part is gonna hurt, but I promise it won't last very long.” Tris nodded again, bracing herself, but still let out a sharp cry as the blonde quickly cleaned the wound.  
  
After the cleaning, all that was left was the application of a couple of good band aids, and then Clarke leaned back again, her work done for the moment. Returning everything back where it came from before washing her hands, she pretended not to notice as another tear slipped down Tris's cheek before she could hurriedly wipe it away. Everything taken care of, she sat back on the lip of the tub, looking over and meeting a set of guarded eyes. Rubbing the space between her eyes, the doctor let out a small sigh. Before she could say anything, Tris spoke up.  
  
“Sky was wrong; you're not our mom.” The glare was back full force, and Clarke could see the anger and fear being leveled at her from stormy eyes. “I know,” she replied quietly, crossing her arms over her front, trying to pretend like the words didn't hurt. Tris's eyebrows lifted, clearly not expecting that response, and then the silence pressed between them again until the blonde broke it.  
  
“We never told you how Calvin ended up with us, did we?” she said, and Tris frowned, not expecting that. She shook her head and watched as Clarke looked away, staring off in front of her. “We were in the process of adopting a little girl when her grandmother decided she wanted her instead. We didn't find out until we were at her foster home to visit her, and Lexa met Cal.” Tris watched as her lips curled up into small smile, her eyes softening. For a second she was jealous, trying to remember if her mom had ever looked at her like that, but quickly shoved that thought away. “He was six, this silent little boy with a big black eye.” Clarke must have noticed her frown, because she explained, “He got into a lot of fights back then. Lexa asked our social worker about him, and that's when we learned his story.” With the way the smile fell from her lips and her eyes hardened, Tris wasn't sure she wanted to hear this anymore, but she didn't say anything, just listened as the story continued.  
  
“Calvin's birth family weren't very nice people,” Clarke explained quietly, a new tone in her voice Tris couldn't remember ever hearing before. The blonde looked back at her, meeting her eyes, and continued, “His father yelled a lot at him and his birth mother, and then he began hurting Calvin and his mom didn't help him. He wasn't very old when he was finally taken away from them, but the stuff his father put him through still affects him. Loud noises still scare him, and when people throw or break things it's worse because that's something his father used to do.”  
  
The memory of a plate clattering to the floor and another breaking against the table flashed across Tris's mind, and she winced, guilt immediately washing over her. She wanted to sink into herself, ashamed that she might have hurt the friend who'd been by her side for months now.  
  
“I... I didn't know,” she mumbled, the words hard to get out past the burning she could feel growing in her throat. “Sorry.”  
  
“I know you didn't,” Clarke murmured, pushing herself away from the tub and moving over to the little girl, squatting down and taking her hands. She squeezed them before running her thumbs across their back, waiting until Tris was looking at her to continue. “I'm not telling you this because I want you to feel bad. I'm just telling you because I want you to understand. What you did downstairs wasn't okay, Tris. I know what Skylar said upset you, I know you love your mom and you miss her, but the way you reacted isn't acceptable, and not just because of what Calvin's been through. It's okay to be mad and sad, but it isn't okay to throw things or break them. You can scream into a pillow or a blanket or a stuffed animal, but you can't scream at a person. I know you didn't mean to, but you really upset Calvin and scared your sister.”  
  
Suddenly Tris's eyes widened, thinking about her sister and what she'd done, and her stomach dropped. She nearly threw up, the guilt hit her so hard, and without realizing it she was squeezing Clarke's hands.  
  
“Sky! Where is she? I, I gotta go see her!” she exclaimed, beginning to push herself off the toilet, but Clarke stopped her. “She's downstairs with Lexa, but you and I need to finish talking. Do you understand what I've said?”  
  
“Yeah,” Tris answered, needing to look away from the blue she couldn't seem to escape in that moment. Fidgeting, she continued quietly, “I shouldn'ta done that. Throw the cake or break the picture.” She swallowed thickly, before adding even more quietly, “Or yelled. I really shouldn'ta done that.” She could practically feel Clarke studying her, could feel her eyes scanning over her, and only looked up when the blonde nodded. “Okay,” she just said, standing up. “We'll let this go for now, but we're gonna have to keep talking about this Tris, you, me and Lexa. Got it?” Tris nodded and then moved, trying to push herself forward, but before she could she felt Clarke's arms close around her and lift her up. “Let's keep you off that foot a little longer,” she suggested, shifting her a little to get a better grip, and after a moment she nodded hesitantly. This wasn't what she was used to, being held like this, but she had to admit it felt kind of good, even more so when Clarke's lips brushed lightly against her temple. For some reason she suddenly felt like crying again and had to turn away, forcing herself not to let her head rest against the woman's shoulder.  
  
The two made their way down the stairs and through the kitchen, and Tris looked around the living room as Clarke carried her through the doorway. Apparently the party had ended, the guests all having left, and Tris felt another spike of guilt trickle down her spine as she noticed the pile of unwrapped gifts still in the corner. Calvin sat on his stool in his corner, hands messy with paint as he smeared it along a canvas, barely looking up as they entered the room, and Clarke's words came back to her, more guilt pooling in her stomach as she thought about them. Lexa sat at the far end of the couch, watching Cal while Skylar sat on her lap, currently curled up against her shoulder. When the two walked in, Lexa flashed them a small smile, but Tris barely looked at her. Instead she noticed the way Sky's eyes moved straight to her and then she curled further into the woman, a little whimper escaping her. Tris couldn't breathe, the guilt now filling her lungs and chest, and a couple of tears slid down her cheeks.  
  
“Sky,” she whispered as Clarke moved over to the couch, but her sister wouldn't look at her, instead just burying her face in Lexa's hair. The brunette flashed her a sympathetic look as Clarke set her down on the opposite end of the couch. “It's alright, Tris,” she promised, curling an arm around the toddler against her. “She'll be okay, and she'll forget about this.” Tris wasn't entirely sure she believed her, the fact that her sister wasn't even looking at her tearing through her like a set of knives, but she clung to the words, praying she was right.  
  
“I'll be back in a few minutes,” Clarke stated once Tris was on the couch. She grabbed a pillow and carefully tucked it beneath the injured foot, relatively sure the elevation was unnecessary at this point but doing it anyway just to be sure. She noticed Lexa shoot a look at first the foot and then her, but rather than answer the silent question she just took a step back. “Why don't you guys start a movie or something, and I'll make some popcorn when I come back?” Lexa was the only one who responded, still giving her a curious look as she nodded while Calvin remained focused on his painting and Tris continued to stare sadly at her sister. She returned her wife's look with an encouraging smile, trying to silently assure her everything was alright, and then left the room to go clean up the glass from Tris and Skylar's bedroom.  
  
Lexa got up to get a movie, and as she did Tris finally looked away from her sister, eyes wandering back over to the boy in the corner of the room, entirely too focused on his painting. “Cal?” she called quietly, and noticed him stiffen a little before turning to her, frowning a little. She bit her lip, hands curling into fists in her lap, before she whispered, “Sorry.” He continued to stare at her for a second, but then she thought she saw his lips curl up just a tiny bit and then he nodded. Lexa picked a movie and set it up, but before moving back over to the couch Tris watched as she moved up behind her son, ruffling his hair with her free hand and kissing the top of his head. The smile he shot up at her wasn't hard to notice at all, and another wave of emotions crashed through Tris, some strange mixture of guilt and envy and relief that he seemed okay.  
  
The movie began, but Tris was pretty sure no one was really paying attention to it. Skylar remained curled against Lexa, Calvin remained focused on his painting, and Tris continued to watch her sister, wishing she would look at her. Lexa seemed to be watching the movie, but whenever the little girl looked at her, she got the sense she wasn't actually seeing it. Before long Clarke returned, a bowl of popcorn in her hands, and after that the tension in the air seemed to dissipate slightly but not fully. The first movie ended and they decided to put in a second one, no one really seeming up for anything else, and Clarke made sandwiches to follow the popcorn. By the time the second one ended, Tris knew they wouldn't make it to a third.  
  
“I think we could all use an early bedtime tonight,” Lexa stated, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. Where normally Calvin and Tris would both argue, instead they just nodded, following the two women out of the room as they led the way through the kitchen and up the stairs. Calvin and Tris got ready for bed while Clarke and Lexa got Skylar ready, the toddler having fallen asleep halfway through the second movie, and soon the mothers were tucking both girls into their beds.  
  
Lexa noticed the way Tris stared sadly over at her sister's crib, and gently tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. “Everything will be okay, Tris,” she murmured, thumb rubbing lightly against the girl's cheek. “Skylar will forgive you.”  
  
“But what if she doesn't?” the little girl asked quietly, her voice breaking and barely above a whisper. The brunette gave her a little smile, brushing her cheek again before saying, “She will; it's what family does.” Tris still didn't look like she entirely believed her but nodded, even as she glanced back over towards her sister. Clarke took Lexa's place, kissing her forehead, and then the two women left the room, turning the light off and pulling the door mostly closed behind them. They looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between them, and then moved on to their son's room, knocking lightly on the door before letting themselves in. Calvin was already in bed waiting for them, Pauna draped over his legs, and he tried to give them a smile as they entered, the look not quite making it. Lexa closed the door behind them and then followed Clarke across the room.  
  
“Move over for a second, Pauna,” Clarke said as she climbed onto the bed, the dog shuffling slightly out of the way so she could squish between Cal and the wall. Lexa followed, managing to sit on the other side of their son without falling off the bed, and once both mothers were in place Pauna resettled herself back over the boy's legs. Calvin sat quietly between his mothers, immediately feeling better just being squished between them.  
  
“You haven't said anything since the party,” Lexa finally stated, tone light as she glanced down at her son. “Do you want to talk about it?” He shook his head, choosing to look at Pauna rather than them, but couldn't help but lean into it as his blonde mother put an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, Cal,” she murmured, leaning closer to him. “I know it's hard, but it's better when you talk about it. Your art corner helps, but we want you to talk to us too.” He hesitated for a second, still staring at Pauna, and then licked his lips.  
  
“I guess it just... I got scared,” he whispered eventually, neither of his mothers pushing him. “When it, the plate and the noise... it made me think of him.”  
  
Now Lexa's arm curled around him as well, and he felt his eyes close as she held him tightly, the grip welcome and managing to help him rein in his thoughts and emotions. “You are safe, Calvin,” she promised him, their arms around him telling him just that. “Nobody is ever going to hurt you like that again. Not ever.”  
  
“We've got you, Cal,” his other mother added, leaning down and resting her forehead against the side of his head. “Forever, we've got you.” Pauna let out a little whine and he could practically feel her grin before she added, “And Pauna has you too. You're always going to be safe with us.”  
  
“I know,” he told them, because he did. He'd known that for a long time now, and he always felt it even more when they held him like this. After a moment he frowned, glancing to the side of his room where he knew his sisters were laying on the other side of the wall, and asked, “Is Tris okay? And Skylar?”  
  
“They're both going to be fine too,” Clarke assured him as Lexa nodded. Cal nodded too, sure they were right, and then let out a sigh. “Sorry Tris's birthday didn't go too good,” he said, and they both smiled at him as they began to climb out of his bed, Pauna having to shift again so Clarke could push herself away from the wall. Lexa grabbed her hand, helping to pull her off, and the blonde flashed her a smile even as she told him, “It's okay. There's still birthday cake left; maybe tomorrow we can do a little celebration for her, just us.” He grinned, apparently liking the idea, and then slid down, Pauna curling up beside him as Lexa pulled the covers up over him. “I think she'd like that,” he said, eyes already closing, and the mothers both nodded as they began to make their way out of the room. “Goodnight, Cal,” Lexa said, Clarke echoing the same thing right after her, and they heard him call back, “Night Mama, night Mum. Love you.”  
  
“Love you too, Cal,” Clarke told him while Lexa smiled and flicked the lights off, and then they stepped out of the room, pulling the door behind them until only a crack of space was left. Back in the hallway, the two women looked at each other, the tension from the day finally able to wash over them. Clarke leaned forward, resting her forehead against Lexa's shoulder, and felt the brunette's hand curl up behind her back, lightly tracing her fingers against the small of her back.  
  
“I think I need to have some art time of my own,” she muttered, sure the words must have gotten lost in her own hair as it pooled around her, but she could feel Lexa nodding and knew she must have heard them.  
  
“Go ahead,” she urged, not stopping the movement of her fingers until the blonde looked up. “Go do what you need to. I think I am going to get ready for bed and read for a while.” Clarke shot her a smile and then leaned up, pressing a simple kiss to her lips. “I love you,” she told her, for no reason other than she could, and felt Lexa return her smile. “I love you too,” she said and then pressed another little kiss to Clarke's mouth. The blonde let out a little hum that fell into a sigh, and then she pulled back, catching Lexa's hand and giving it a quick squeeze. “I'll be back up in a little while,” she promised, and Lexa squeezed back. “Take your time.” She nodded and then pulled away, turning and heading back down the stairs. She could have taken time to get out her own art supplies, but she didn't think Calvin would mind her borrowing some of his, just this once.  
  
As it always did, the time passed differently as she painted, minutes feeling like seconds as she fell into the feel of the brush flowing over the canvas. Colors sprouted in front of her, a little less abstract than they sometimes were, and she let the colors and brush guide her movements. She'd been careful all evening, keeping her emotions locked solidly behind a dam as she dealt with the fall out of Tris's melt down, but now she let those emotions break free, the dam quickly lost somewhere beneath them all. She painted in the quiet of the living room, only the sound of the ticking clock hanging on the wall breaking the silence, and the rhythm of the ticks seemed to become part of her trance. At one point she felt something brush against her leg and looked down long enough to see Panther circling around the stool, giving him a smile before returning her focus to her work. After a minute she heard the soft padding of paws against the floor as the cat made his way to the other side of the room and then jumped up, curling into a ball on the couch, but ignored it. She focused on nothing but her painting, her emotions coming to life in front of her as they so often did for her son.  
  
Finally an ache along the back of her neck pulled her out of her trance, all at once realizing how much time had gone by while she'd been sitting there. Rolling her neck to try to loosen the muscles, she eyed her work, silently critiquing it. To her it said more than she'd known she'd been trying to say, and she felt herself smile. She carried the brush and palette out to the sink, deciding she'd actually wash them in the morning, and then returned to the living room just long enough to go to the couch and scoop up the cat where he was still laying. He shifted for a second, clearly not impressed with being woken from his sleep, but began purring lightly as she scratched his ears, green eyes closing once again as he curled up in her arms. Cat in hand, she made her way back through the house and up the stairs, peeking into her kids' rooms as she passed them. When she looked into Tris and Skylar's, she frowned slightly, a fresh ache forming in her chest at what she found, but continued down the hallway.  
  
Lexa didn't look up from the file in front of her as she heard Clarke enter their bedroom, pushing the door shut behind her. She knew her wife would leave the door open just a crack so they would be able to hear it if any of their kids made any noise and didn't bother looking up to confirm. She felt a small dip in the bed as Clarke placed Panther at its end, and simply reached out to pet the cat once he sauntered up to lay next to her. Out of the corners of her eyes she could see the blonde shrug out of her jeans and then change into a large t-shirt that fell about mid-thigh, and still she didn't look up.  
  
“Tris took her blankets off her bed,” she heard Clarke say as she moved around the room. “She's sleeping on the floor by Skylar's crib.”  
  
“She feels bad about yelling at her,” Lexa replied, focus still on the file. Without needing to look up she knew Clarke was shaking her head, could hear it in her tone as she said, “They're sisters; this won't be the only time she ever yells at her.”  
  
“No, but it is the first time.” She finally looked up as Clarke climbed into their bed and added, “Skylar is the only person in her life she's never been mad at before; not only does she feel guilty for scaring her, she probably also doesn't entirely understand where that anger came from.” The blonde let out a little scoff, clearly trying not to roll her eyes as she stated, “I think we all know where her anger's coming from.”  
  
“Mm,” Lexa agreed, unable to keep her gaze from dropping back to the file on her lap, and she felt Clarke's eyes follow her. “Lexa, is that-,” she heard, and then the blonde grabbed the file, giving it a once over before looking back at her wife, an eyebrow raising, clearly unimpressed. “Lexa, you shouldn't have this. You're not a detective anymore, remember?”  
  
“I remember, Clarke,” Lexa stated calmly, reaching out and taking the file back from her. Resting it against her lap again, she couldn't help but look at the picture at the top right corner, sure the person's face would be forever etched into her memory. “But that doesn't mean I've stopped looking for her. I will find her, and when I do she will pay for what she has put those two little girls through. I will make sure of it.”  
  
Clarke gave her a look, eyes dropping momentarily back at the file. “I don't exactly think Tris will appreciate it if you throw her mother in jail,” she said drily. “Not that you have the power to do that anymore. How did you get this?”  
  
Lexa shrugged, meeting her look as she answered, “Most of it I just kept after leaving the department. Roan is still looking into her disappearance, so sometimes we get together and he let's me know if he's found anything.” When Clarke's eyes flashed, her eyebrows lifting again, she said, “I may not be a detective anymore, Clarke, but that does not mean I can't keep looking for this woman. We don't know what happened to her: if she's still alive she could try to find her daughters someday. Tris may want it, but that is the last thing I will ever allow to happen. She will never come anywhere near those girls ever again.”  
  
Clarke could see the steel in her wife's eyes, heard it in her voice, and it only made her heart begin beating faster. For years she'd hated knowing the woman she loved had a job that meant carrying around a gun and putting herself in dangerous situations, but now the thought of her without one caused the tell-tale signs of fear to begin crawling across her skin. The idea of Lexa going after this woman, of trying to track her down no matter where she might be hiding, alone and unarmed terrified her in ways she didn't even want to think about.  
  
“What makes you think she's even still alive?” she asked, trying to stem off the fear for as long as she could. Lexa shrugged as though unconcerned, reaching out and petting Panther as his head butted against her side. “She may not be,” she replied, glancing back up at the blonde, “But until I know for sure she isn't, she's still a threat to our kids.”  
  
“Lexa, even if she is alive, she'd have no way of finding them,” Clarke tried, wanting her to let go of this but reading the stubbornness in the set of the brunette's jaw. “No way of finding _us_. She disappeared, and just like Tris doesn't know where she is, she doesn't know where they are. Whether she's alive or dead, she's never going to be able to hurt them again.”  
  
“I can't take that chance, Clarke,” Lexa argued, shooting a slight glare down at the file in her lap. “I have to at least try to find her. She should be in jail where we know she won't be able to get near them.”  
  
“You did try to find her,” the blonde told her, shaking her head. “Before you quit, you tried to find her. Now Roan's trying to; let the police handle it, and just be a civilian. Be their mother.” She watched as Lexa frowned, lips pursing, and reached forward. Her hand slipped into the brunette's, catching her attention, and when green eyes turned to her, Clarke met them, not backing down. “Please, Lexa. Don't do something that might put you in danger. Just let it go. Please.”  
  
Part of her wanted to do as Clarke requested. She could see the fear trying to hide behind determination in blue eyes, but something inside Lexa refused to bend to it. Normally that look, that tone of her wife's voice was all it took for her to drop whatever crazy idea she had and do as Clarke wanted, and more often than not she was happy to do it. This was different though, so while a part of her wanted to be able to let it go, another part seemed to dig further into the desire to find the woman she'd been quietly searching for for months. Something inside her refused to let the mother who'd abandoned her kids get away with it.  
  
“I can't do that,” she said, speaking quietly, glancing away from her wife. She could practically feel Clarke's fear spike beside her, feel her get ready to mount another attack in an attempt to get her to change her mind, but then she was squeezing the blonde's hand and that feeling dissipated. Turning back to meet her eyes, she allowed her lips to curl up into a small smile. “I can't promise to completely let this go, but I can promise I won't do anything foolish. I do not intend to track her down by myself, I'm just making sure the case stays on people's radars. It is easy for a missing person's case like this to get filed away and forgotten. I'm not going to let that happen. Roan does what he can to find new information, and then we go over it together to see if we can come up with any new leads. When we do find her, he will be the one who goes after her.” Her free hand reached up, lightly cupping Clarke's chin, and her smile grew a little. “I promise Clarke, I am not going to do anything that might take me away from you. Not you, and not our kids.”  
  
Though she'd be happier if Lexa could let this go completely, Clarke felt herself relax a little, subconsciously pushing into her wife's hold. She knew Lexa, knew her need to protect those she loved would always rule over everything else, and so knew she wouldn't be able to just step away while this woman who'd left her children to starve could still be out there. It scared her, thinking of the many things that could happen as she searched, but that fierce protection was also one of the things she loved most about her. After a long day, she could feel the fight draining out of her, and decided that was probably the best answer she was going to get, at least for the moment, and so nodded against her wife's fingers.  
  
“Okay,” she just said, her free hand reaching up and pulling the fingers away from her face just so she could drop a kiss against them. “I don't love it, but I love you.” Meeting her wife's eyes, Clarke smiled before she leaned over, Panther pressed lightly between them as her lips moved to Lexa's cheek. “I get it,” she murmured, not missing the way the brunette's eyes shut partially as her breath ran over her cheek. “As long as you're safe, then okay.” Lexa nodded, lost a little from just having the blonde so close to her, and Clarke didn't fight it as her smile only grew. “Right now though, let's go to bed. It's been a very, very long day.”  
  
“Yes,” Lexa agreed, returning the other woman's smile with a small one of her own. Flipping the file closed, she turned just enough to drop it on her bedside table, to put away in the morning. Before turning back around she flicked off her lamp, shrouding the room in darkness. Eyes unable to adjust quickly enough to the lack of light, she felt rather than saw Clarke slip beneath the covers and lie down, and followed right along behind her. Soon the two were curled together, one of the blonde's ankles slipping between her calves as their arms tangled together, each finding the other's hand in the dark. Lexa could hear Clarke's breathing, could feel hair she knew wasn't her own tickling her cheek as she sank into her pillow, and let herself completely relax, eyes closing so as to completely take in the feeling of lying so close to the woman she loved.  
  
For a few minutes they were quiet, each lost in their own thoughts, neither particularly trying to fall asleep, before Clarke broke the silence.  
  
“She called me Mummy,” she whispered, and Lexa's eyes opened, adjusting just enough so she could see the outline of her wife beside her. She felt her lips curl up, knowing without being able to really see that the look would match Clarke's own, and she pressed even closer to the blonde.  
  
“I know,” she murmured, her nose pressing against the crook of the other woman's shoulder. She knew Clarke could feel her smile, and felt the grip on her hand tighten. “I know.”  
  
The two mothers laid there together, basking in the excitement and absolute joy each felt filling their chests. Sure, a lot had gone wrong that day, but one thing had gone very, very right, and it was that one thing that kept them from sleeping, too overjoyed to do anything other than hold each other. They may still have a long way to go before they were all one big happy family, but they were getting there. Slowly but surely, they were getting there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being patient with me. I'm sorry this took so long to get out, but I hope you enjoyed!


	12. Chapter Twelve - Tis the Season

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A section of this chapter was taken from my "Twelve Years of Christmas" additional story for "The Note" with some minor changes. So if it seems familiar, that's why.

_Two Months Later_

Lexa grinned, pressed up against the window of the warm room as she watched the little figures on the ice trying to stay on their feet and keep their sticks down. Even dressed in all of the padding needed for the game, the group of six to eight year olds still looked awfully small as they tried to remain upright and keep their focus on the game. Despite the dull roar she could hear from out in the arena, the kids all seemed to be doing a good job paying attention to the game, and Lexa couldn't help but keep grinning as that dull roar only got louder whenever either team managed to get close to one of the goals.  
  
“Come on Jonas!” Raven cheered beside her, a fist pounding lightly against the window they watched through. “Don't let that puck in, dude!” On Raven's other side, Lincoln echoed her cheer as Andy slept against his shoulder. “Keep it up Jonas! Nice job!”  
  
“You both are aware he can't hear you, right?” Lexa asked, turning away briefly from the game to shoot them a look, an eyebrow raised. “Even if we were in there, he probably wouldn't be able to hear you over everyone else.”  
  
“Hey, don't bet on it,” Raven joked, grinning over at her. “Remember who you're talking to. He'll hear me if I want him to.” Lincoln just nodded, refusing to look away, and then let out another cheer. Turning, Lexa found the opposing team on the opposite end of the ice, two of their players near the net and Jonas watching them. The way she saw the puck bounce away from the goal, she guessed he must have just saved the puck from going in.  
  
“Holy moley what a goalie!” Raven chanted, waving her hand up in the air as though he could see her, and Lexa rolled her eyes, still grinning. That grin grew as one of the ref's blew his whistle and the lines changed, Calvin jumping out onto the ice and taking up his position as one of the defensemen. The whistle blew again and the players all moved, everyone making what seemed to be more of a mad dash to the puck than any kind of coordinated movement, but now Lexa cheered just as loudly as her friends.  
  
In all honestly, the game truly wasn't the most exciting. As Mites, most of these kids were only just learning the rules of hockey, which meant the game never progressed very far before the blast of a whistle pulled everything into an abrupt stop. The game seemed to be more stop and start, more off-sides and icing and penalties than anything else, but like any proud mom Lexa enjoyed just watching her kid and his friends having fun. Every few minutes someone would go down, the skates they wore not quite familiar enough on their feet for them to go as fast as they wanted or to make the turn they tried and she'd wince, worried about an injury, but the padding they wore did its job and a moment later they'd be back on their feet. Whenever Calvin wasn't on the ice she would cheer for the rest of the team, the lines changing often to give the kids the break they needed. Only Jonas and the other team's goalie remained constants, the two boys sticking close to their nets. She watched the children zipping around on the ice, listened to the dull cheers from inside the cold arena as well as the louder ones from those around her, and let herself be drawn into the game.  
  
On her other side, Tris looked to be just as into the game as any one of them. Whenever Lexa peeked over, she found the girl's eyes glued to the ice, her hands gripping at the windowsill in front of her. Her mouth hung partially open, the corners of her lips turned up in excitement, and every time the players converged on their end of the ice, her grip on the sill got tighter. Resting against the brunette's hip, Skylar seemed far less interested with the skaters, her focus instead on those around them. She peered over Lexa's shoulder, following the movements of the other people in the room, those going up to the concession stand behind them and ordering food, as well as those down the hall in the tiny arcade. Whenever someone noticed her watching or the noise around her got to be too much she'd stick her face against Lexa's neck, hiding away in her hair, but it never took her very long to peek back out again.  
  
The game was already halfway through the second period when Lexa felt Skylar stir against her, letting out a happy cry. Turning to find what had caught the toddler's attention, her lips curled up as a certain blonde walked towards them, still tugging her coat on. Clarke returned her smile before looking over at Skylar and let her grin grow.  
  
“Hey there little girl,” she greeted, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Skylar's cheek. “Are you enjoying the game?” Skylar babbled, reaching out towards the blonde, and Lexa transferred her over. Shifting the toddler against her, Clarke looked back up, meeting Lexa's eyes. “How are we doing?”  
  
“We're losing one-nothing,” Raven answered before Lexa could say anything, her focus still on the game even as she stepped over, making room for Clarke between her and her wife. “But Jonas has been able to stop a lot of shots, and Cal's helped whenever he's been out there. Go go go!” The last bit was said as a cheer, her fist back up in the air as the players shot down the ice as quickly as they could, their team trying to take the puck to the other goal. Skylar gave her a look, barely shrinking away from her loud aunt, and Clarke just grinned.  
  
“How was work?” Lexa asked, still looking at Clarke, and the doctor shrugged. “Good,” she answered, making a funny face at Skylar when the toddler turned back to her. “Long. Glad to be done for the day. What about you guys?” She looked away from the little girl in her arms then, to look at first her wife and then the girl on her other side, still entirely enthralled with the game. Lexa followed her gaze, her lips twitching a little as she looked at Tris.  
  
“We have had a good day so far,” she informed Clarke. “Tris helped me make the fruit salad to take to your mother's tonight.”  
  
“She wanted to try to make another pie, but I didn't let her,” Tris added, not taking her eyes away from the ice but clearly listening. “Told her yours was fine.” Clarke and Lexa shared a look, the brunette rolling her eyes a little but unable to entirely hold back her smile, while the blonde just grinned.  
  
“Good call, Tris,” she agreed. “We don't have time to deal with any fires today. Thanks for saving the day.”  
  
“I would not have started a fire,” Lexa argued quietly, and on Clarke's other side they heard Raven snort. Glaring at her and Clarke, her wife clearly trying not to laugh, she tilted her head back, too proud to admit it was probably a good thing she hadn't tried to make a pie to match Clarke's.  
  
For a few minutes after that the chatter stopped, everyone once again paying attention to the game at hand. Calvin came back out on the ice and Clarke cheered along with Raven, bouncing Skylar a little and making the toddler break out into a fit of giggles. Before long Andy woke up, the noise of the cheering around him too much to sleep through, and after struggling for a few minutes against his father's hold Raven took him into the arcade, telling him as they went, “Come on dude, let's go race some cars and kick some butt!” The three remaining adults stayed at their window until the end of the second period, and then as the third was about to begin Lexa glanced down at Tris.  
  
“Would you like to go inside and watch the rest of the game a little closer?” she asked, and the little girl immediately nodded, an excited grin quickly forming. Lexa returned it and then turned to her wife and gave her a quick smile. Clarke's hand squeezed briefly against hers, blue eyes bright, and then Lexa and Tris were making their way through the doors into the ice arena.  
  
A burst of cold smacked into them the moment the doors open, but Tris didn't seem to feel it. Lexa tugged her coat tighter around her before taking Tris's hand, and for once the little girl didn't put up any kind of fight. She was too busy watching the skaters on the ice, only just tall enough to see over the wall and through the plexiglass, and allowed the brunette to lead her along the length of the rink. Lexa scanned over the bleachers as they went, sending a nod to Emma and Olivia where they sat with their grandparents, and then led Tris to an open spot a few rows up. They sat, and as soon as they did Tris's hands balled up into fists on her lap, eyes flashing as they darted back and forth to the players on the ice. Lexa spent just as much time glancing down at her as she did watching the game, her chest feeling light at seeing her so obviously excited.  
  
“Have you ever thought about skating?” she asked after a few minutes, watching as one of the kids on their team managed to get the puck away from another player out of sheer luck.  
  
“No,” Tris told her, though she knew it was a lie. She'd been to a couple of Calvin's games now, and every time she wondered what it would be like to be out there. It looked like they were flying, the way they moved down the ice, and part of her longed to fly too.  
  
“Do you think it's something you would like to try?” Lexa continued, looking at her out of the corner of her eye. She watched as Tris frowned, obviously surprised, and took her attention off of the game for the first time since they'd sat down.  
  
“Could I?” she asked, voice a tad quieter than she meant it to be, something stirring inside her she wasn't entirely sure she liked. Hope now mixed in with the excitement she'd been feeling, and the two together was not something she was used to. Beside her, Lexa just nodded.  
  
“I think it's too late now to join the team, but you could spend the rest of this season learning how to skate. I'm sure Calvin would be happy to teach you.” Lexa glanced across the arena, finding Octavia leaning over the wall, shouting something to her team. “And I imagine Octavia would be more than willing to help him teach you the rules of the game. Then you would be all ready for next year. You could play with Cal and Jonas. Or if you don't want to play hockey and just want to skate, you could take figure skating lessons with Emma. There are plenty of options, if this is something you want to try.”  
  
“I wanna play,” Tris blurt out. Her already pink cheeks flushed a little further, suddenly embarrassed by her enthusiasm, and looked away from the woman beside her, turning back to the game. “Hockey. I wanna play. If... if that's okay.”  
  
“It's okay,” Lexa told her, making sure her voice remained light. She could tell Tris was a little uncomfortable with just how much she wanted this by the way she fidgeted beside her, and it both saddened her and gave her hope that maybe the girl was beginning to open up a little more. “Clarke and I want you to find something you think you might really like. And if you try hockey and don't like it, that will be fine too. We'll keep looking until we find something you do really like.”  
  
Tris opened her mouth to say something but then closed it as she frowned. She'd never really been able to _do_ anything before. She could remember once asking her mom if she could learn to ride a horse after seeing them on TV, but her mom had said no almost before she'd even finished asking. _Doing_ things was for people who didn't have Responsibilities, and she had too many to have time for anything else. Sky always came first and her mom always came second, and taking care of them meant she didn't have time to do anything else. Guilt began to bubble up in her gut, sure she shouldn't be excited at even just the idea of learning how to skate and play hockey, but with Clarke and Lexa she didn't have as many Responsibilities. She still had Sky, of course, and her sister would always be the most important thing ever, but the two women helped enough that she didn't need to always be worrying about her like she used to do. And since her mom disappeared she didn't have to take care of her anymore, so really sometimes she got kinda bored. Playing hockey looked like it would be fun and give her something else to do, she just never expected she'd get the chance.  
  
“I wanna play,” she said again, her voice soft. She stared out over the ice, watching the players flying below her, and felt the desire to be out there doing the same thing they were all doing burning in her throat. Beside her, she felt Lexa watching her but didn't look over. “Okay,” the brunette simply said, reaching over and resting her hand lightly on her knee, giving it a tiny squeeze. “We'll make sure you learn how to skate and get you all ready for next year's team.” Tris's lips began to curl up, butterflies of excitement stirring in her stomach. It felt strange, definitely something she wasn't used to, but it also felt kinda good. She didn't say anything else though, just sat with Lexa as they watched the rest of the game together.  
  
The game ended, Jonas and Calvin's team losing 0-1, and Lexa and Tris got up to follow the crowd, everyone slowly making their way out of the arena. Back out in the warm room, they met up with the rest of their group, and Lexa fell into conversation with the other adults while Tris stood quietly with them, watching everyone walking by and every now and then looking up to check on Skylar, still held against Clarke's hip. After what felt like a long time, Calvin and Jonas came out of the locker room, each trying to lug a big hockey bag behind them. Lincoln grabbed Jonas's while Lexa stepped forward to grab Cal's while a round of applause went around the circle.  
  
“Hey my dudes, awesome game!” Raven exclaimed, holding up a hand for a high five from both of them. “You both did an awesome job.”  
  
“We lost,” Jonas grumbled, kicking at the floor slightly, and his aunt just shrugged. “Who cares?” she wanted to know. “Did you see how many shots you kept from going in the net? And Cal, you did an amazing job, defending your goalie like that!”  
  
“She's right,” Lexa agreed, smiling down at them, “That was a very good game and you both played very very well.”  
  
“My boys!” they heard behind them, and Cal and Jonas both turned around to see Octavia sprinting slightly up to their group, grinning down at the two of them. She wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders and gave them a big hug. “Fantastic game, guys, I'm proud of you!” Jonas's disappointment with how the game turned out began to fade away, now beaming under all the praise, and Calvin just smiled at them all. As he looked around the circle, he saw his blonde mother hold out one arm, Skylar still tucked into the other one, and went over to her.  
  
“Nice job Cal,” she told him, hugging him lightly to her. “I'm sorry I couldn't be here for the whole thing, but I hope you guys can fill me and Nana in on everything that happened at dinner.”  
  
“Yeah, we can do that!” Jonas exclaimed, clearly excited to talk about the game he'd just played, and Cal grinned over at him before nodding. “Perfect!” Clarke agreed, nodding to both of them, and then pressed a kiss to her son's forehead, her nose wrinkling as she pulled back.  
  
“Before that though, I think someone needs to take a shower,” she stated, now noticing the way Calvin's brown locks stuck to his forehead. “I don't think Nana wants her house to smell like stinky hockey boy if we can help it.”  
  
“The same goes for you,” Lincoln told Jonas, quirking an eyebrow at him even as he smiled. “Let's go home so you can take a quick shower before we head over to Nana's.”  
  
“Aww,” Jonas groaned, less than impressed at the idea of a shower, but he followed as the entire group began to slowly make their way to the entrance. The three sets of families broke up in the parking lot, each saying their brief good-bye until they would see each other again in barely more than an hour, and then Clarke and Lexa led their hoard to their car. Clarke helped strap Tris and Skylar into their seats while Lexa stuffed the hockey bag into the back of the car and then they were off, hardly making it a mile down the road before Tris started complaining about how Calvin was stinking up the car.  
  
Once home, Cal was ordered up to take a shower while Clarke packed the pie and fruit salad and a few snacks for Skylar and Lexa helped the girls change and then took Pauna out. Within forty-five minutes they all once again piled into the car, Pauna now replacing the hockey bag in the back, and made their way to Clarke's mother's house. The closer they got, the more Lexa noticed Clarke biting her bottom lip out of the corner of her eye, and finally she reached over, gently taking her wife's hand. It wouldn't be the first time they'd been to the house since the blonde's father had died, but it would be the first big holiday they celebrated without him, and as much as they both knew Clarke was trying to ignore that, each also knew it wasn't working. Clarke clung to her wife's hand, shooting her a grateful look, and tried to take a few deep breaths to help herself calm down.  
  
Raven's car was already in the driveway when they arrived, so neither of them were surprised when they walked into the kitchen and found the mechanic peeking into a pot of something steaming on the stove, a glass of wine already in hand.  
  
“Raven, leave it,” they heard Abby scold lightly, the woman not even looking up from the carrots she was cutting to know what she was doing. “I told you, the potatoes need a few more minutes.”  
  
“Yes Abby,” Raven groaned, staring wistfully down at the many pots on the stove, looking as though she hadn't eaten in days and might die if she had to wait even one second longer. No one had any pity for her as Calvin ran into the room, Tris right behind him and Clarke, Lexa, Skylar and Pauna behind her.  
  
“Nana!” Calvin exclaimed, grinning widely up at her, and at that she immediately looked away from her carrots, dropping her knife beside them on the cutting board. “Cal! How was your game? Did you have fun? I want to hear all about it!” She wrapped him up in a big hug and then smiled brightly at Tris when she hung back just a little. “What about you Tris? Did you enjoy watching the game? Any pointers for your brother or Jonas on what else they can do for the next one?” She reached out one arm, inviting the little girl into the hug, and after a second of hesitation Tris took it, still standing a little stiffly as the arm wrapped around her but clearly far more comfortable than she used to be.  
  
“It was a pretty good game, Nana,” Cal told her, and Tris added, “They lost, but I guess they played kinda well. Only a few kids fell this time.”  
  
Abby laughed as she straightened back up and took a step back, now looking past them to their mothers. Walking across her kitchen, she reached out to both of them, pulling them in for a quick hug as well. “Happy Thanksgiving,” she said, pressing a quick kiss to Clarke and then Skylar's cheek and gripping Lexa's elbow. “I hope you both had a good time at the game too.”  
  
“Happy Thanksgiving,” they echoed together, returning her hug before she pulled back and made her way back over to her cutting board. Before either said anything else they watched as Tris rolled her eyes, shaking her head.  
  
“It's not Thanksgiving yet,” she stated, not for the first time. “There's still two more days.” Abby shrugged nonchalantly, returning her attention to the carrots. “Not officially, no, you're right Tris, but remember we're celebrating early because Clarke has to work on the actual day. So we're pretending today's Thanksgiving.” Grinning over at her, she added, “Besides, if we make Raven wait much longer I think she'll try to eat all the food without us.”  
  
“Excuse you Abby, I can be patient,” Raven argued as she handed a glass of wine to both Clarke and Lexa, lifting her head a little higher. When all three of the adults and Tris and Calvin gave her a look, she shrugged and admitted, “But okay, so maybe it's only gonna last a little longer. What can I say, I'm ready to eat me some turkey.”  
  
“You're always ready to eat Mom's Thanksgiving feast,” Clarke reminded her as she walked over to the island, putting down the fruit salad and pie she'd carried in. “Remember the year you tried to hog all the mashed potatoes to yourself, and Octavia practically jumped over the table to get them from you?” Raven glared at her and then one fist went to her hip. “Oh yeah, cause I'm the only lover of Abby's cooking. Like you and Lexa don't try to steal all the rolls every year.”  
  
Lexa, who was busy setting Skylar on the floor with Pauna and a few of her toys, looked over to her mother-in-law. “There are rolls, right?” Abby used her knife to point to a spot on the counter where a thin towel laid over a pan of something. “I wouldn't dream of making a Thanksgiving or Christmas meal without them,” she insisted, and Lexa smiled. Calvin rolled his eyes before looking over at Tris. “They go nuts over those rolls,” he informed her quietly, and his mothers shot each other a grin.  
  
Lexa's father was the next person to arrive, adding a large salad bowl filled with greens to the counter before he went around hugging everyone, and then not long after the Birch family showed up. Soon the kids and Pauna were all playing in the living room while the adults hung out in the kitchen, everyone but Abby sipping on a glass of wine. Before long Abby was giving out orders and everyone was following them, checking whatever needed to be checked or setting either of the tables to her specifications. Aside from the usual table, another smaller one had been set up as well, just big enough for the four oldest kids to sit at. The addition of the extra table made the room feel a little crowded, but it was the only way to fit everyone in, and honestly Abby loved how the size of her family seemed to just keep growing. It helped her not to think bout the one face that would be missing at the table this year.  
  
Clarke and Raven had been part of the Thanksgiving routine for so many years everything felt entirely second nature as Abby gave out orders, and the rest of them had been involved long enough to know exactly where they fit into the flow of things as well. The one hitch came when Abby took down a stack of plates and handed them to Lexa, the motion so automatic she didn't even realize until a moment later she'd given her one extra plate. Lexa stood there with them for a second, knowing everyone was counting them just like she was, and felt the mood in the room drop. Realizing her mistake, Abby took one back, fingers gently brushing over its surface before she carefully returned it to the cupboard. Clarke felt her throat begin to burn, but before she could think about it too much Raven and Octavia were jostling her from either side, lightly bantering back and forth. She could read it in their eyes when she looked at them, knew they were just trying to distract her, and she gave them a small smile in thanks. As soon as the plates were laid out neatly along the long table Lexa moved up behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist and holding her tightly for just a few seconds, and she closed her eyes as she sunk back against her. Of everything this holiday, she was most thankful to have her family around her, here to support her and love her and make her laugh even as her heart ached with missing her father. When she looked up and caught her mother's eyes, she knew she was thinking the same thing.  
  
Finally, after what was far too long for Raven's liking, the tables were set and the food was all prepared, dishes lining the big table and island counter. They called the kids back into the kitchen and somehow managed to get everyone settled, and then began passing around plates and dishing out piles of the delicious-smelling food. As much as she argued this wasn't actually Thanksgiving, Tris's stomach growled as her plate was passed to her, more than happy to dig into the yummy food along with everyone else. Chatter flowed easily at both tables, the adults all talking about stuff she didn't really care about while Cal and Jonas and Emma talked more about the hockey game. Despite her interest in the game, Tris barely paid attention to the conversation, her attention easily wandering elsewhere as she ate.  
  
“Me!” she heard her sister exclaim excitedly from her spot between Clarke and Lexa at the big table, and looked over to see her hitting her tray excitedly. Potato and squash stuck to her face and what was probably something cranberry was squished between her fingers. “Mama, Mummy, me!” Lexa and Clarke both laughed before the blonde cut her little pieces of turkey and Lexa gave her some more fruit, and internally Tris sighed. She'd have to try to have another conversation with Sky that night to remind her they weren't their moms and that they already had a mom. After that first time she heard her sister call either of them that, she'd made sure never to get mad at Sky for it again, and instead tried to talk to her about why she was wrong when they were supposed to be sleeping. They'd had to have the same conversation a lot of times already, and it never seemed to stick with Skylar the next day, but she'd just have to keep trying. Their mom would find them eventually, after all, and when she did she didn't want Skylar to be confused.  
  
As she heard Sky let out another laugh, Tris glanced up between Clarke and Lexa, studying the way they smiled at each other and her sister, and then was almost surprised when Clarke looked over to the kids' table, catching her watching. That smile never disappeared, maybe even got a little bigger, and Tris had to look away, her chest suddenly feeling a little weird. Rather than meet the blue eyes looking at her, she scanned over the rest of the two tables, watching as the adults all laughed and talked and helped each other to more food while her friends ate and grinned and laughed. Something bumped against her leg and she looked down, finding Pauna underneath their table, Cal sneaking her a little bit of turkey. Realizing he'd been caught, he just shot her a secretive smile before turning his focus back on his food, winking at her before he took a big bite of his roll. She grinned back, pressing her lips together tightly, a silent promise not to tell, and felt that weird feeling in her chest spread. Rather than worry about it, she decided to ignore it, suddenly perfectly happy to just eat and laugh with everyone else.  
  
It wasn't really Thanksgiving, but it was still the best Thanksgiving she'd ever had.

***

  


_One Month Later_

It was the shift in the bed that woke Lexa up, Clarke turning over in her sleep beside her. The room was still dark enough that the brunette wasn't entirely sure she'd actually opened her eyes until she turned to the side and saw the red glow from the clock beside their bed. Reading it with tired eyes, she yawned. No wonder it was so dark: it was barely five o'clock in the morning. Still, she was awake, and past experience had taught her that once she woke up in the morning, there was no sense in trying to get back to sleep. On this morning especially, she figured she might as well get up and get ready for the day. She shrugged the covers off of her, carefully turning so that her legs hung off the edge of the bed, and then slowly sat up. Moving as quietly as she could so as not to wake up her wife, figuring that one of them at least deserved to get a few more minutes of sleep, she stood up, tiptoeing across the room. After four years of living together in this bedroom, she knew how to move across the room without stepping on any of the squeaky floorboards even in the dark, and successfully made it to the door without making a sound. Carefully she opened the door and slipped into the hallway, turning the light on after she had closed the door behind her. Less worried about being quiet now, she moved down the hallway, stopping briefly outside the two bedroom doors as she went. Both were opened just enough that she could peak in, finding all three of her children still sleeping.  
  
_Talk about a Christmas miracle_ , the brunette thought to herself, glad that none of the three kids seemed to feel the need to jump out of bed any earlier to see what Santa brought them. If the previous year was anything to go by, she expected she had maybe another hour before Calvin would be up, and she doubted Tris or Skylar would be sleeping much later than him. That gave her just enough time to make a pot of coffee and finish arranging the presents under the tree. She and Clarke set them all out the previous night before going to bed, but another look to make sure everything was there couldn't hurt.  
  
She began down the hall again, moving to the stairs but stopped when she heard one of the bedroom doors squeak as it was pushed further open. Lexa cringed slightly before turning around, but let out a silent sigh of relief when she saw the culprit. Pauna had nosed the door open enough so she could slink out of Calvin's room when she had heard Lexa moving in the hall. The brunette smiled at the dog and gestured for her to follow, her little stump of a tail already wagging as she padded after her mother down the stairs.  
  
“At some point we're really going to have to start enforcing the rules you know Pauna,” Lexa murmured to the dog as they reached the end of the stairs. “You know you're not supposed to sleep in the kids' rooms. You have your own bed down here.” The dog just looked up at her, her tongue already hanging out of the side of her mouth as she gave the brunette her big grin. Clearly she thought if she continued smiling at her mother she would continue to be allowed to sleep upstairs with everyone else. So far that grin and the pleading in her eight-year old son's eyes whenever she or Clarke tried to enforce that particular rule had won out, and Lexa didn't really see that changing any time soon. Still, she could continue to act tough, at least.  
  
Pauna led the way, turning the corner at the end of the stairs and moved straight to the front door. She sat in front of it, looking up at Lexa, and let out a little whine.  
  
“Sorry girl, there's no time for a real run this morning, but you can go run around the yard for a bit,” she informed the dog, reaching forward and unlocking the door so she could pull it open. Pauna looked up at her for a moment, clearly unsure why Lexa wasn't putting her leash on her as usual, but finally she stepped out, moving down the front steps until she reached the lawn. Lexa flipped a switch and the front light came on, lighting the yard up enough so she could see the dog sniffing around. As she watched, Pauna ran to the fence at the front of the yard and then back, clearly just running for the fun of it. Lexa envied her a little bit; on a normal morning with Clarke still home, the first thing she would do after getting out of bed would be to put on her running clothes, put Pauna on her leash and take her for a run. She loved her morning run, but this morning she wouldn't have time for it. Seeing the dog perfectly content to roam around the fenced in yard, Lexa closed the door, turning back into the house. She knew Pauna would let her know when she was ready to come in.  
  
Lexa walked into the kitchen, almost tripping on Panther as he wound around her feet before she could flip the light on over the counter. She bent down and picked the cat up, placing him on her shoulder where he loved to perch, scratching him a couple of times behind his ears and causing him to purr before she turned her attention back to what she had been doing. She yawned as she moved around, her body working on automatic to get the coffee started. Once it was brewing, she continued through the kitchen, her hand lifting to once again scratch the cat as she moved into the living room. There she turned on one of the lamps, and as she leaned forward the cat jumped off her shoulder, landing gracefully on the floor. As the light flickered on, she watched him saunter over to the couch, jumping up and then curling up along its back. Shaking her head at the feline, she turned, unable to stop the smile from growing on her lips as she took in the sight of the room in front of her. Their tree stood in the corner, more decorations than she cared to count hanging from its limbs and weighing them down, strings of lights wrapped around it. Beneath and beside the tree were the presents that she and Clarke and Santa had bought for the kids and hanging on the shelf on the wall beside the tree were seven stockings. Five of the stockings were large, each one having one of their names' on it, and the last two were smaller, the first Pauna's and the second Panther's. Both names were written on messily with glitter glue, and she remembered Clarke helping Cal to write them on last year when the boy had insisted that the dog and cat both have a stocking too. Her smile grew at the memory, and that smile only grew more when she heard footsteps behind her and then felt arms wrap around her middle.  
  
“I thought the kids were supposed to be the ones to wake us up on Christmas morning,” Clarke joked, resting her chin against her wife's shoulder. “But then I get up to find my wife awake and all three kids still sleeping. You don't understand how this is supposed to go, do you?”  
  
Lexa grinned as she turned in her wife's hold, eyes moving down to meet Clarke's. She almost laughed when she saw that Clarke was wearing her red Christmas sweater with the little green mistletoes on it, but managed to keep it in. The blonde returned her grin, reading the amusement in her eyes before she reached up and gave her a quick peck on the lips. Lexa returned the kiss with her own before she replied, “I just couldn't sleep. Is it weird I think I'm more excited for Christmas now than I was when we were the kids?”  
  
Clarke let out a little laugh before saying, “I guess that makes sense. We were the ones getting all the presents then, but now we get to see the looks on our kids' faces as they open theirs. I can't think of anything more exciting than that.” Lexa returned her grin before the two pulled away just slightly, the arms closest to each other easily moving around the other's waist as they turned to look at the tree once again. Clarke's eyes scanned all the gifts under and around the tree, and she shook her head. “We get to see the looks on the faces of our very _spoiled_ children,” she added. “Seriously, do they really need this much stuff? You know it's all things that we're just gonna have to clean up when they leave their toys around the house.”  
  
“All three of them deserve to be a little spoiled,” Lexa insisted, her eyes also sweeping around the room and taking it all in. “The past few months have been hard on all of them, and they deserve to have one day where all we do is spoil them. Besides, it's our first Christmas together with all five of us as a family.”  
  
“All seven of us,” Clarke reminded her, “You know how much Cal hates it when we don't include Pauna and Panther in the family count.”  
  
Lexa rolled her eyes, but felt the corners of her lips quirk up none the less.  
  
“Alright, it's our first Christmas with all _seven_ of us together, and I am more than happy spending it spoiling them all rotten. And spoiling you rotten,” she added, eyes dancing over to meet Clarke's. The blonde just grinned before she leaned over and kissed her again, this time keeping their lips together a little longer. When she did finally pull back, the grin was still on her face as she said, “Alright, I suppose I can accept one day of being spoiled rotten, and doing the same to you and the kids. And if you've already got a pot of coffee going, I will very much consider that a good start to the day.”  
  
“Of course I've already got the coffee started. I know how this works,” Lexa insisted, quirking an eyebrow up at her wife, and the blonde just laughed. “Come on,” she continued, slipping her hand to her wife's and entwining their fingers together. She started to lead the blonde back to the kitchen, but before she could get very far she felt a little tug on her hand.  
  
“Wait,” Clarke said, and when Lexa turned to her giving her a curious look Clarke just grinned before pulling them closer to the tree. She leaned down, one hand still holding Lexa's, and after a moment of maneuvering, managed to plug the string of lights into the outlet beside the tree, causing the tree to light up as the colorful bulbs draped around its limbs came to life. Clarke scanned the tree as she stood back up, and then turned back to Lexa. “Alright, now the coffee.” The brunette nodded, and this time when she began to lead them out of the room the blonde didn't stop her.  
  
Together they moved back into the kitchen, their hands only untangling as Clarke moved to one of the cupboards and pulled out two coffee cups, Lexa moving to the coffee maker and pulling out the pot. Clarke held the two cups up and Lexa carefully filled each, being careful not to splash the hot liquid as it flowed into the mugs. She set the pot back down once both were full and then accepted the one Clarke held up to her. The strong smell of the drink hit her as she wrapped both hands around the cup, but unlike the blonde she simply held it, letting the beverage cool some before she dared drink it.  
  
Clarke didn't care: after years of medical school and then finally becoming a surgeon, she was pretty sure she had lived off of coffee long enough that the heat no longer affected her. All she had to do was blow on the steaming drink a little, and then she took a big gulp of it, closing her eyes and moaning as the hot liquid poured down her throat.  
  
“God I love coffee,” she groaned, opening her eyes to see her wife shaking her head at her, lips curled up in a slight smile.  
  
“I couldn't tell,” Lexa replied sarcastically, shaking her head again as the blonde stuck her tongue out at her before taking another gulp. Choosing not to mirror the childish motion, Lexa moved over to the island, sitting on one of the bar stools. She blew on her coffee before taking a small sip, the drink still too hot for her to take much more than that. Pulling the cup from her lips she set it on the counter, her hands still wrapped around it, and then looked back to the blonde. “What time did we tell our parents to be here?” she asked before blowing on her drink once again.  
  
“I think we said nine-ish,” Clarke replied, leaning down from the other side of the counter until she could rest her elbows on its surface. After taking another drink from her coffee, she added, “I figure that'll give the kids enough time to unwrap their gifts from us, and then they can focus on the ones from your father and my mother. And then Octavia, Lincoln, the kids and Bellamy and Raven should be here around eleven. The kids can play together while the adults get lunch ready.”  
  
“You thought of everything,” Lexa joked, her tone light as her lips curled up once again in a smile. Clarke returned the smile, telling her simply, “It's what I do.” She paused then and the smile fell away, Lexa's brow quickly furrowing at the change in expression. The blonde looked into her coffee mug and murmured, “It's just... It's gonna be kind of weird. It's my first Christmas without my dad.” She paused, clenching her eyes shut. “I don't even want to think about what my mom must be feeling right now. It's just... It feels so weird.”  
  
Lexa reached across the space between them, pulling Clarke's hand into her own. The blonde opened her eyes and looked up, meeting her wife's gaze, and she felt the brunette give her hand a squeeze.  
  
“I know,” Lexa told her quietly, “I get it. It's going to be a little hard for you and your mom today, but I'm right here. I'll do whatever I can to make it easier for both of you, and you know our friends will do the same.”  
  
Clarke gave her a little smile, even if it was a little forced, and she admitted quietly, “I just don't want to be sad today. It's our first Christmas with Tris and Sky. I don't want it to be anything but happy.”  
  
“It can be mostly happy with just a little bit of sadness,” the brunette insisted, mirroring her wife's tone. “We all miss Jake, and none of us expect either you or Abby to be completely okay today. So we'll do everything we can to be happy, but just know that if you need a minute at any point, that's alright.”  
  
“Thanks Lexa,” Clarke whispered, the sincerity in her voice carrying the words over to her, and Lexa just smiled at her wife, brushing her thumb across the back of the blonde's hand. Clarke mirrored the motion, her lips turning up a little more, and then suddenly she let out a little laugh. “Look at us. I thought you were the one that had a problem expressing your emotions and I'm the one whose supposed to tell you it's okay. When did we switch roles?”  
  
Lexa just grinned, pushing herself off of her stool and then moved around the counter, wrapping Clarke in her arms. The blonde happily fell into the hold, placing her coffee on the counter before moving her arms to the brunette's shoulder, and then their foreheads pressed together, the same motion they had done countless times.  
  
“That's marriage, baby,” Lexa teased, “What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine. I suppose that includes this kind of thing as well.”  
  
“Mm,” Clarke agreed, pressing herself closer to Lexa. “I guess it does.” Without another word, their lips came together and their eyes fell shut, falling completely into the other as they had done so many times before.

***

Tris lay in her bed, eyes open, staring at the dark ceiling above her. She couldn't make anything out in the dark, but she knew there were blue stars painted on the ceiling and her eyes focused on where she knew one of them was. She didn't like that: she didn't like that even in the dark she knew the star was there, because it meant she was getting used to this room. She'd been here too long, gotten too comfortable. The last room she knew this well had been hers, the one she shared with Skylar at their old apartment, home with their mom. This place was getting too familiar, and that was bad, because in her life when something got familiar it meant it'd soon disappear, and maybe she wasn't entirely sure if she wanted this to disappear anymore. She wanted her mom still, missed her so much sometimes it kind of felt like a set of claws was tearing at her belly, but maybe she was starting to also want this. Maybe she was starting to get comfortable here with these people and that was not okay because when they decided they didn't want her anymore it meant she was gonna miss them too and just hurt more. They would get rid of her just like the other families she'd lived with had, and she'd have to pretend it didn't hurt that they didn't want her.

Except they should have realized that a long time ago. It'd been over six months since she and Sky moved in with these people. No one had ever wanted them, wanted _her_ that long, except for her real mom. But even her real mom didn't want her anymore. It'd been almost a year since she saw her last, and as much as she missed her, as much as she wanted to believe she was looking for them and would find them and take them home, that belief was getting harder and harder to hold on to every day. Maybe everyone was right and her mother really was gone, really had left them, and if she had then it must have been her fault. Nobody could ever be mad at her baby sister, not for long, so if their mom left them it must be because of something she'd done. She must have gotten tired of Tris and that's why she'd left: she just didn't want her anymore. Nobody did.

She'd learned that over and over, with every family she'd stayed with, every other foster kid she'd been forced to share a room with. They didn't like her, didn't want her, and before long she'd just been sent somewhere new. So these people, Clarke and Lexa and Cal, they couldn't really want her either, and they'd realize that soon. They had to. She only ever caused problems, and she knew it was only a matter of time before they decided she wasn't worth the trouble anymore. Sure, they'd done a lot for her and Skylar, even changed their lives for them, but eventually they'd see she wasn't worth any of it. She just kinda hoped that they'd keep Sky when they realized it. Cause even if she was a problem, her baby sister never was, and Skylar had grown attached to them all. Tris had even given up trying to tell her they weren't their moms whenever the little girl called them that because maybe they kinda were. She wouldn't understand it if she was taken away from them like she'd been taken away from the other families who'd claimed they wanted her. So even if she probably wouldn't be there much longer, Tris hoped that Sky would be, cause her little sister deserved a happy home, and this kinda was a happy home.

Tris was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard her door push open, the light from the hall streaming in. She looked over and saw a small figure standing in the doorway.

“Are you awake?” she heard Cal whisper, and she nodded. “Yeah,” she said simply.

“Can I come in?” he asked, and again she nodded, repeating, “Yeah.” He moved forward into the room, and Tris sat up, leaning over to turn on the little lamp standing on the table next to her bed. Light flooded the room, making her blink, and even Cal had to wipe his eyes to get used to the change. He walked across the room and then pulled himself up on her bed, and for a minute they just sat there kind of staring at each other.

“You okay?” he finally asked, and Tris just shrugged slightly.

“Mmhm,” she replied, “Course I am. Why wouldn't I be?”

He looked down at his hands, his fingers gripping her blankets just for something to do. He shrugged back, finally looking up again when he muttered, “I dunno I just... I remember my first Christmas here. And I remember the ones I had in my foster homes and the ones before that with my old family. I just know it all feels kinda weird. And it kinda hurts, remembering the old Christmases. So I just wanted to make sure you're okay.”

She knew exactly what he was talking about. For days kids at school had been so excited for Christmas, but she just couldn't get into it. Christmas just made her remember what it had been like before her mom had disappeared. It'd never been huge, but they always got a little tree, and her mom always even got her a couple of presents. Her favorite had been last year, Skylar's first Christmas, when her mom had stopped using the stuff, even if it was just for a little while. She'd been really happy, and bought them all a big lunch even though Sky couldn't eat most of it which just meant Tris got to eat her part of it, and there had even been ice cream. It was one of her favorite days. But that had been a long time ago, and since then she'd had too many least favorite days for the favorite day to really mean anything anymore. So when Calvin talked to her, she understood what he meant.

“I guess it's... It's a little weird,” she finally admitted, not meeting his eyes even though she could feel him watching her. She put her tough face on then and shrugged, holding her head higher and meeting his eyes as she added, “But it doesn't matter if it's weird. I won't be here much longer anyway. It's just another day, probly.”

She watched Cal roll his eyes and shake his head, his automatic response now whenever she said anything like that. “You've been saying that for forever now,” he groaned, “When are you gonna get we're your family now? Ma and Mumma and me, we're not gonna get rid of you. You're staying with us, Tris. You and Skylar. You're both part of our family.”

Tris could have argued, but he was right in that they'd had this same argument over and over again, neither one ever backing down. It was too early to try to fight him again; he was too stubborn, almost as stubborn as her, and she knew they would never agree. Plus, at the sound of her name Skylar stood up in her bed, her head poking up above the little bars that kept her from falling out of it.

“Tis!” she exclaimed, the smile already on her face when she saw them both. “Cabbin!”

Tris quickly scooted out of bed, walking over to her sister. She stepped up on the stool that had been placed there to make it easier for her to help her sister out of bed, and then reached down, grabbing her sister and carefully pulling her over the bars.

“Mornin' Sky,” she said to the little girl, smiling at her sister. She heard Calvin moving behind her, and then he was standing beside her, also grinning at the toddler.

“Morning Skylar,” he greeted her, “Merry Christmas.”

“Mes mas!” the little girl exclaimed, and neither Tris or Calvin could stop their smiles from growing.

Seeing Tris smile, Calvin bumped her shoulder. She looked over at him, raising her eyebrows, and he just smiled at her. Bumping her shoulder again, he told her, “Come on, let's go downstairs. I bet Ma and Mumma are waiting for us. They really really like Christmas.”

Tris let out a sigh, but then nodded and set her sister down so she could walk. She took one of Skylar's hands though, always afraid that she might fall even though she'd been walking for like forever now, and Calvin moved to the other side of the almost-two-year old and took her other hand. Skylar just grinned up at them, her toothy smile making them both laugh again, and then together they walked out of the girls' room.

***

Clarke and Lexa were sitting together in one of the big recliners, their coffee finished and watching the copy of _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ Lexa had gotten Clarke their first Christmas together after coming home from the Marines, when Pauna's head perked up from her spot on the floor beside them. Clarke had let the dog back inside a few minutes ago, and the big dog had quickly curled up beside them, not moving until this minute. They noticed her stump of a tail start wagging, and then she was on her feet and quickly moving back into the kitchen. The two women looked at each other, both knowing what that meant, and smiled before they both stood up. As she moved, Clarke quickly wiped away the couple of tears that had fallen down her cheeks as they watched, memories of past Christmases and her father singing loudly and off-key with Yukon Cornelius flooding through her. Lexa paused the movie and then turned off the TV, and together they followed the dog through the kitchen and back to the stairwell where they could hear their kids before they could see them.  
  
“Sit on your butt, Sky, you know it's easier that way,” they heard Tris coach her sister, and then they heard the steady _thud thud thud_ of a butt carefully sliding from one stair to the next. A moment later all three of their children turned the corner from around the stairs, their eyes all moving to the two women who waited for them there even as the dog immediately moved to them, sniffing them all and giving them her own good morning tail wag.  
  
“Merry Christmas!” both of the women exclaimed together, large smiles on their faces.  
  
Calvin's face broke out into a huge smile, echoing their exclamation, and Skylar let go of her siblings' hands, running forward.  
  
“Mes mas!” she yelled, and Clarke laughed as she bent down to scoop the little girl into her arms, hoisting her up in the air and causing her to scream in delight. Lexa grinned at them before she turned to the other two, her eyes sweeping over them and taking in both Calvin's large smile and the hesitation in Tris's eyes. She understood, and knew better than to push Tris, so she just held out her hand to the girl, telling both of them, “Come on, Santa's been here and I think he left a couple of things for all of you.”  
  
Tris almost declared that she knew there was no such thing as Santa, but her sister was beaming and even Calvin had a bigger grin on his face than she thought she'd ever seen before, so she decided to just keep quiet. She took Lexa's hand even though she didn't really think it was all that necessary, and then Calvin and Pauna led the way through the kitchen and into the living room, the rest of them quickly following along behind.  
  
When she walked into the living room, Tris felt her jaw drop. Her eyes couldn't focus on everything at once and her brain couldn't really process what was before her. She'd figured this was a family that did presents and all the Christmas stuff, but she hadn't been expecting this. Something about the way the gifts were scattered beneath the tree made it look bigger than it had been the night before when she went to bed, and the lights and decorations seemed more important now than they had. Really it was all a little overwhelming, but even she couldn't stop the smile from growing on her face, especially when she heard Cal exclaim quietly, “Wow!”  
  
Lexa moved over to the shelf where the stockings hung and said, “Stockings first, right guys? What do you think, youngest to oldest? You two want to help Sky with hers?”  
  
Tris and Cal both nodded, and Lexa grabbed two of the stockings, carefully laying them on the floor next to each other before turning and carefully taking down the other three. Clarke knelt down and put Skylar on the floor, Tris grabbing the stocking with her sister's name on it and dragging it over to her. They all laughed as the little girl shrieked over almost every single thing that came out of the stocking, clearly having very little idea as to what was going on but still enjoying every minute of it. Once hers was empty, Tris got to look through her stocking, pulling out little toys and candies and other things until hers too was empty. Then it was Calvin's turn, and he grinned the entire time, flashing his mothers that grin every now and then. Clarke and Lexa made quick work of their own stockings, smiling at each other as they pulled their own surprises out, and then when they finished it was time to open presents. Calvin acted as the elf, reading the tag of each gift and then taking it to whoever's name was on it, pausing only when he found one with his own.  
  
As the gifts came out, wrapping paper and bags began to litter the floor. Clarke had brought in a large trash bag earlier to try to keep the mess at least a little orderly, but it was of little use, especially when Lexa crunched a piece of wrapping paper into a ball and threw it lightly at Calvin, hitting him in the arm.  
  
“Ma!” he exclaimed with a laugh, and then picked up another piece of paper and threw it back at her.  
  
“Oh no...” Clarke groaned, and then they were all laughing and throwing paper at each other, the wrapping paper war enough to make them lose focus on the few gifts that were left. Finally they stopped, Tris and Cal declaring themselves the winners and Lexa sighing and agreeing with them. Clarke did her best to give her wife a glare, but when Lexa merely grinned at her, eyes shining, she couldn't keep the edges of her lips from turning up in their own smile. Their attention returned to the presents until Tris playfully stuck a bow she pulled off one of her gifts to the top of Skylar's head, the red shininess of the bow almost lost in her auburn curls. Skylar just grinned, clapping, and they all laughed once again.  
  
Finally there was only one gift left, and Lexa smiled as she stood up and scooted towards the back of the tree to retrieve it. Calvin had quit his job as present deliverer after he opened the new art set Santa brought him, his entire focus looking at the many paints and markers and colored pencils it came with. Clarke turned to her wife as the brunette carefully moved to grab the box at the back of the tree, and her smile only grew, knowing what was inside it. Quickly she got up and moved over to the door to the office area they shared, turning and watching Lexa before she opened it. The brunette carried the gift over to Tris, placing it down in front of her.  
  
“Last but not least,” Lexa said, smiling at the girl. “I believe Santa brought you this, Tris.”  
  
Tris raised her eyebrows at her, clearly telling her she didn't believe her, but she didn't say anything and Lexa simply kept smiling. It made her more than a little sad that the six-year old had seen too much of the world already to believe in Santa Claus, but that didn't mean she would let that sorrow show. Instead she just smiled, almost nervous as she watched Tris unwrap the box, but the look on the girl's face when she finally got it open just made her smile grow. Tris's jaw dropped once again, her eyes going wide.  
  
“W-what...?” she asked, gently reaching out and lifting one of the skates from its box.  
  
“If you want to be a hockey player, then you need a pair of good hockey skates, right?” Lexa asked her, the amusement and happiness obvious in her tone.  
  
“And,” Clarke added from the side of the room, finally reaching into the office, “You're also going to need a good hockey stick.” The next moment she pulled out a hockey stick with a bow on it, grinning at the little girl's obvious shock. Moving across the room, she handed it to Tris as she said, “We talked to Santa: he didn't want to put it under the tree because it was kind of obvious what it was.”  
  
Tris accepted the stick with trembling hands, too stunned to even roll her eyes at the Santa comment. There were too many emotions going through her at the moment to even begin to know what she felt. Finally she stuttered, “I don't, I don't understand.”  
  
Lexa knelt down next to her, taking her hand in her own. Tris looked up, meeting her eyes as she told the girl softly, “You told us you want to play hockey like Calvin and Jonas. So we made sure you have what you need to do it. We'll get the rest of the gear for you too, but figured you'd like these now.”  
  
“B-but I don't even know how to skate yet, not really,” Tris reminded her, and Lexa just shrugged.  
  
“You'll learn,” she said simply, “And now you've got your own pair of skates to learn in. It's better than renting a pair each time we go to the ice rink. You'll feel better in your own skates.”  
  
That made more sense than anything else at the moment, so Tris focused on that. Her fingers tightened around the stick, eyes scanning Lexa's as she whispered, “Thanks.” Lexa's smile just softened before she leaned forward and placed a small kiss to the girl's forehead. Tris couldn't help but close her eyes at the small touch, and she felt something pull in her chest. She immediately opened her eyes again as Lexa pulled back, the smile still on her face.  
  
“You are very, very welcome,” she informed the girl. “We just want you to do something you love, Tris, and if hockey's something you think you'll love, then we'll make sure you have everything you need to play it. No questions asked, no thanks needed. We love you.”  
  
Tris felt the pull at her chest again, but did her best to ignore it. She just nodded, unable to think of anything to say, but luckily at that moment the doorbell rang and both Lexa and Clarke turned to look through the kitchen towards the front door.  
  
“Sounds like Nana and Bampa are here,” Clarke said, and as Lexa stood up she looked at the three kids and continued, “We're gonna go help them bring things in from the car. You guys stay here, please. Cal, Tris, keep an eye on Skylar, okay?”  
  
They both nodded and Lexa and Clarke smiled at them all before they quickly walked out of the room. Tris watched them go, and again she felt the pull at her heart and this time she couldn't ignore it.  
  
“See?” she heard Cal say, and she turned to him. He still sat with his art set in front of him, but he was looking at her with a little grin on his face. “I told you you're staying. We're family.”  
  
“Famy!” Sky declared, her new stuffed giraffe held firmly in one fist even as she flung her arms up over her head.  
  
Tris clenched her fist tighter around the hockey stick she still held and felt her lip tremble. She could feel tears gathering at the corners of her eyes and even as she tried to hold them back she knew it was no use. One slipped down her cheek and Pauna whined from where she sat behind Calvin, quickly moving over to her. The big dog licked her cheek and then her hand, whining the entire time, and it only made more tears fall. A pain she couldn't entirely describe pierced through her chest, some strange mixture of relief and utter sadness combining like a whirlpool inside her. The relief washed over her first, making her breathe easier as she realized that maybe this was real, maybe these people really did want her and love her as much as they'd been saying for months now and maybe that was okay. The sadness trickled through that relief though, making her heart squeeze in her chest.  
  
This Christmas easily beat out any Christmas she'd had before, and it wasn't because of the skates or stick or any of her other presents. It was the best because Cal had come into their room first thing, to make sure she was okay and because Clarke and Lexa hadn't taken their eyes off the three of them ever since they came down the stairs, ready and waiting with their Merry Christmases and smiles. She could already hear both women talking to Abby and Gustus in the other room, everyone sounding happy and excited but not like this was anything new. It was the best because Tris didn't have to wonder how long any of the adults would be out to celebrate with them before closing themselves away into another room and locking the door, or if that would even happen. She'd been living in this place for months now, and not once had Lexa or Clarke disappeared or come out of their room acting weird, and she still wasn't entirely sure what to think of that. Not once had it been Tris's Responsibility to take care of them and somehow she knew it never would be. This Christmas beat all the others because for the first time she felt like the kid in a loving family who just had to say thank you for her new toys and have fun, and the thought of how easy that was here made her chest hurt enough that it felt like her heart might be breaking. When did this place, these people, start to feel more like home than the thought of her mother and their apartment?  
  
Calvin watched his little sister break down, saw it the moment everything swirling inside her reached her eyes. Without a second thought, he pushed himself off the floor and then lightly nudged Pauna out of his way. Arms wrapping around her, he pulled Tris against him, not entirely surprised when he felt hers cling around his middle in return. Without her needing to say anything, he was pretty sure he knew what was happening; he remembered his own moment of realizing he'd finally found his home, and recognized it in her eyes.  
  
“I told you,” he said again, the words quiet against her ear, “You're not going anywhere: we're family.”  
  
“Tis,” Skylar murmured, toddling over to them. Though too young to understand what was going on, she clearly knew her big sister needed a hug, and so wheedled her way under their arms, clinging to the one person who'd always been there to hold her whenever she was sad. “Famy.”  
  
Tris let out a wet laugh, unwrapping her arms from around Calvin and pulling back a little so she could look down at their baby sister. “Yeah Sky,” she whispered, her voice a little hoarse, “You're right; we're family.” Skylar beamed up at her and Cal grinned at her, and all she could really do was return their smiles as she roughly wiped the tear streaks away.  
  
It was still a little hard to really wrap her mind around, but maybe this place really was home. Maybe these people really did love her, did want her in a way her mother had never quite been able to. Maybe this really was her family and maybe she really could be happy here with these people who'd taken them in. They really were loved and wanted, and as awesome as the hockey stick and skates were, that was so much better. 

***

_One Week Later_

“Just hold on to the chair, Tris,” Clarke coached, keeping one eye on the little girl beside her and the other eye on everyone else near them. “Don't worry about what anyone else is doing, you just keep working on your balance.”  
  
“I know,” Tris gritted out from between clenched teeth, glaring at the metal folding chair in front of her. She gripped it tightly, using it to keep herself up while her legs wobbled on her ice skates. Watching Calvin's hockey games, skating had looked a lot easier than it was turning out to be. This was the fourth time either of the mothers had brought her out to practice her skating, and though she liked the look of her new skates better than the rented ones she'd used before, they weren't any easier to get used to.  
  
“Come on Tris!” Jonas called out from a few feet away, pulling both of their attention away from the chair. He grinned at her, waving his hand in the air. “Let's skate!” Tris shot him a glare as he easily moved towards them, but before he could close the gap his mother skated up behind him.  
  
“Oh no you don't!” she exclaimed, grabbing his sides lightly and giving them a quick tickle. “Leave Tris alone and let her learn just like you did. Go skate with your sister and Calvin.”  
  
“But I wanna skate with Tris,” he pouted, sticking his lower lip out. “She's more fun than them.” Tris grinned smugly, even as she continued to push herself sluggishly forward, the chair sliding in front of her. Clarke and Octavia shared a look, both trying to hold back a smile.  
  
“Hey Jonas, I bet you can't beat your mom in a race,” the blonde challenged him, raising an eyebrow. His eyes narrowed at that, telling her, “Ya huh I can too!” Octavia winked at her before looking back at her son. “Naw, I'm totally gonna win.”  
  
“Are not!” he exclaimed and then took off before anyone had a chance to say where they were racing to. His mother laughed and then followed him, holding back just enough to let him win. Clarke watched them go, shaking her head. Nobody would ever wonder who his mother was; he took after Octavia when it came to competition. So far it seemed as though all four of the Birch children did, at least to some extent.  
  
With Jonas distracted, Clarke returned her attention back to Tris, continuing on with the skating lesson. When Calvin had shown interest in playing hockey with Octavia and Jonas over a year ago she'd dug out her old skates and taught him, though part of her had been surprised she even remembered how to move on the ice. She hadn't skated since high school, maybe even earlier, but after a few rickety movements and a fall or two her body picked it back up. She'd never been as good a skater as Octavia, but she knew enough to teach Cal the basics and now Tris too. The little girl kept glancing up, eyes scanning the number of people around them, clearly wishing she could be moving like that already.  
  
It was New Years Eve, and to celebrate they'd decided to come to the ice rink. The arena would be open all night, but it was still early enough in the evening that it wasn't packed, only a few dozen people on the ice and a few dozen more loitering around the rink and in the warm room. A couple others had chairs with them, just learning how to skate, while everyone else easily made their way across the ice, zipping and twirling in the open area. Every now and then they'd watch as someone went down, their footing not quite right or just going faster than they were ready for, and Clarke would wince, fully aware of how much pain that person would be in the next day. They always got back up though, usually just shaking it off before getting back into whatever rhythm they'd been in. Looking back at Tris every time, she could easily see how much the little girl wanted to be able to move like the rest of them, the excitement all too obvious in her eyes. Seeing it made Clarke's heart soar and cheeks ache from grinning so much  
  
After a little while, Tris pushed the chair away and let go, shaking a little as she stood on her own. Clarke hovered beside her, ready to catch her if she started to fall, but watched as she began to slowly skate forward. After only a foot or two, she saw Tris beam.  
  
“I'm doing it!” she exclaimed, looking up at Clarke in excitement. Just then she saw Jonas and Calvin and Emma go by, and tried to hurry after them. “Look, I'm-”  
  
Clarke saw her start to go down before her legs could fly out from beneath her, and lunged forward, grabbing the little girl beneath her armpits and holding her up. Tris glared at her feet and the blonde couldn't help but let out a little laugh.  
  
“Careful,” she warned good-naturedly, still chuckling a little. “I don't think you're quite ready to join those guys yet. You're definitely getting the hang of it though!” The girl let out a little huff and then shot Clarke a small smile before carefully pulling out of her hold. Once she was again on solid footing, she once more started forward, switching back to her slower movements.  
  
Outside of the rink, Lexa watched on with a warm smile. She kept glancing between Calvin skating with Emma and Jonas and Clarke and Tris, and everything she saw seemed to make her chest feel lighter and lighter. Skylar sat on her lap, perfectly content with Doggie and her new giraffe, ignoring the rest of the world around her. Every now and then Lexa would bounce her legs and the toddler would screech in delight, turning her head up and flashing the brunette her big grin.  
  
“Oh come on, best three out of five, I can still totally kick your butt!”  
  
Lexa turned as she heard familiar arguing, and had to stifle a grin as she watched Raven and Anya approaching, Andy clinging happily to Raven's back while Olivia tugged at Anya's hand, trying to get away to see what else was going on. Anya rolled her eyes as she moved towards Lexa and Skylar, holding tighter to Olivia's hand and not even bothering to glance at the woman beside her.  
  
“You only want to keep going because I've already won,” she replied dryly, leading their small group up the couple of bleachers to plop down beside Lexa. “We agreed on two out of three and I won two out of three; quit being a sore loser.”  
  
Raven glared at Anya, bouncing Andy lightly on her back and causing the little boy to squeal in delight. “What, are you afraid you'll lose if you agree to more games?” she challenged, staring Anya down. She stood beside them, shifting her weight from side to side as though it were some kind of outlet for her built up energy.  
  
“Not at all,” Anya answered easily, tone almost sounding bored, and Lexa hid her face against the top of her daughter's head to hide her grin. She knew that tone, and knew it would only grate on Raven's nerves further. “I simply have no desire to keep playing that silly game: you thought you could beat me and I proved you wrong. That's it.” Raven's jaw clenched and unclenched as her eyes narrowed. “Uh uh, hell no, it's on now. Let's go, three out of five!”  
  
On her back, Andy gasped at the same time Olivia twirled around, giggling up at Raven. “Aunie Raven bad word!” Andy exclaimed, punctuating his words by tapping his hand on Raven's shoulder. “Bad word Aunie Raven!” Olivia agreed, scolding her aunt, and Raven rolled her eyes while Lexa fought not to laugh and Anya smirked. “Yes Auntie Raven, that was a bad word,” she agreed with them, hauling Olivia up to her lap. “You really should know better.”  
  
The mechanic shot another little glare at her before sighing dramatically. “I'm sorry Andy, Liv, I shouldn't have said that. It was a bad word, you're right.” A second later her face lit up, a smug grin pulling at her lips before she said lightly, “But hey, don't you guys wanna go race again? That would be fun, right?” The twins cheered their agreement and Lexa looked back and forth between the two women, noticing Anya's brow raise as Raven grinned at her in triumph.  
  
“If you want to race you can take them back to the arcade by yourself,” Anya informed her, not so much as budging from her spot on the bleachers. “I'm done.” Raven let out another sigh but then felt Andy bouncing on her back and saw Olivia grinning up at her and gave in. “Fine, let's go you two rugrats,” she said. “Let's go see what kind of trouble we can get in without Auntie No-Fun holding us back.” The twins cheered their agreement as Anya rolled her eyes, Olivia wriggling off of her lap, and then the little girl grabbed Raven's hand to pull her back down the bleacher steps while Andy continued to cheer from the mechanic's back. At the bottom, Olivia dropped her hand and began running ahead, and Lexa and Anya watched as Raven started jogging to try to keep up with her. “Hey squirt, you gotta wait for me! Man, you're just like your mother...”  
  
Lexa shook her head as she watched the three disappear out of the rink and back towards the arcade. Glancing over at Anya who was still rolling her eyes, she told her, “I bet I could beat you.” Her best friend shot her a look, unimpressed. “You don't even know which game we were playing.” Lexa shrugged, grinning, and replied, “That doesn't matter: I am sure I could beat you at any of them.” Anya's eyes narrowed, clearly unable to ignore the obvious challenge and then stuck out her chin. “Fine: air hockey, best two out of three.” Glancing to the exit to the arcade, she added, “Later though. I don't need Raven trying to rope me into more of those stupid racing games right now.”  
  
“Okay, later,” Lexa agreed. “Air hockey, best two out of three.” Anya nodded once and then turned to stare over the rink, clearly unconcerned about their challenge for the moment. Lexa followed her gaze and looked over the ice, finding Calvin playing what appeared to be a game of tag with Emma, Jonas, Octavia and Lincoln and Clarke and Tris off on their own. The chair Tris had been using had been pushed to the side and the girl now stood without it, arms out a little as she clearly tried to keep her balance. She could see Clarke saying something to her, likely egging her on, and watched as Tris skated a couple feet, beaming when she made it to the blonde. Lexa's smile mirrored her wife's, thrilled to see Tris so entirely happy.  
  
“She seems to be doing better,” Anya stated beside her, gesturing towards Tris and Clarke. “I know it's been rocky with her, but she looks pretty happy at the moment.” Lexa's smile softened, even as she nodded.  
  
“Yeah,” she agreed, tone quieter than it really needed to be. “I think she's getting used to us. There are certainly still difficult days, and I know she still misses her mother, but I think it's all getting easier for her.” Anya barely nodded beside her, her mouth drawing into a thin line. “What about her mother?” she asked, voice even, though Lexa knew her well enough to hear the fury beneath it that few others would. “Has there been any news about where she might be hiding?” Clenching her jaw for just a moment, Lexa shook her head.  
  
“No, unfortunately not,” she answered quietly. “I still have friends in the police department who are looking for her though. We will find her. She cannot hide forever.”  
  
“If she is smart she will try,” Anya said coolly, not taking her eyes off the ice and those on it. “I would not want to be the person who hurt someone you love. Especially one of your children. If she is smart she has disappeared and will not be back.”  
  
“If she were smart she would not have abandoned her children,” Lexa stated, feeling the familiar anger she felt whenever she thought of Sharlene Bartlett rising in her chest. Her arms wrapped around Skylar tighter, as though she needed to feel her closer, and the toddler raised her head, grinning up at her.  
  
“Mama!” she exclaimed, and then held up Doggie and the giraffe. “Loo!”  
  
Almost immediately all of Lexa's anger dissipated, something very different flooding her chest as she smiled down at her little girl. “I see them, Sky,” she told her, unwrapping one arm from around her so she could gently take the giraffe. “I see them, and I think Mr. Giraffe looks like he wants to... tickle you!” Without warning, she used the giraffe to tickle the toddler and Skylar began shrieking in delight. She dropped Doggie but Anya reached out and caught it before it could hit the ground, and Lexa shot her a thankful look even as she continued to tickle her daughter.  
  
“No Mama no!” Skylar cried, eyes crinkled in delight as she tried to push Mr. Giraffe away. Finally Lexa stopped just so she could lean forward and blow a loud raspberry against the little girl's cheek, just making her laugh more.  
  
Anya watched the interaction with the stuffed dog now safely in her lap, unable to stop her soft smile from growing as the pair beside her laughed. “Well it's easy to see she's happy,” she declared after the tickle fight was over, still smiling as her best friend looked over at her. “Mm,” Lexa agreed, almost immediately turning right back to the grinning toddler on her lap. “She has her unhappy moments too, but there aren't many of them. Skylar's our happy baby girl.” At her name, Skylar's grin grew, looking first up at her mother and then over to Anya, easily charming them both. Lexa wasn't surprised to see Anya melt a little under the look: Skylar just had that effect on people, even it seemed her normally gruff best friend.  
  
“Hey!” they heard, and both women looked down the bleachers to see Octavia and Lincoln and the three older kids getting off the ice, Clarke and Tris not far behind them. Octavia nodded towards the exit, continuing, “We're gonna go get something from the concession stand. You guys wanna come?” She looked between the two of them then, brow furrowing before she groaned. “You didn't really leave Raven in charge of the twins did you? You know that's a disaster waiting to happen.”  
  
Lexa and Anya rose nearly as one, Lexa shifting Skylar to her side while Anya rolled her eyes. “Isn't Raven supposed to be an adult?” she demanded as she made her way down the stairs. “We should not have to babysit her along with the toddlers.”  
  
“Raven always needs babysitting, you should know that by now,” Clarke said, stepping off the ice in time to hear the end of the conversation. Carefully balancing on her skates, she turned to help Tris off as well and led her to the closest bleacher so she could sit down. Glancing back up as she did so, she added dryly, “In fact, I would think you out of everyone would know that. Aren't you always the one complaining about how much she acts like a child?” Anya didn't dignify that with a response, just tilted her head back and Lexa tried not to laugh.  
  
Those who had been skating quickly switched their skates out for shoes, and then the group made their way out into the warm room and to the concession stand. Soon they were all arranged around one of the few tables, the kids shoveling fries and onion rings into their mouths while the adults ate at a slightly slower pace. Before long Raven joined them with the twins, quickly nicking a few of Octavia's fries before the other brunette could pull them away from her, declaring them payment for her time spent babysitting. The entire table was nothing more than loud chatter and laughter, and neither Clarke or Lexa could remember a New Years Eve when they'd been quite so content.  
  
“Can I go skate again?” Tris asked, her small basket of fries only half gone. The other kids cheered their agreement, each looking up at their parents. Lexa glanced between what was left of her fries and Tris's pleading eyes, debating.  
  
“I suppose,” she finally answered, watching as the little girl's face lit up. “But,” she added, glancing at Calvin and back to her. “I want you to take it easy; I would really prefer neither of you got sick from greasy food and too much movement.”  
  
“That goes for you as well,” Lincoln said, looking to first his two oldest and then at his wife. “ _All_ of you,” he emphasized, not breaking eye contact with Octavia. She just rolled her eyes and then jumped up, no less excited than any of the kids.  
  
“You go ahead and help Tris get her skates on,” Clarke told Lexa, placing her hand on the brunette's arm and giving it a slight squeeze. “I'll clean up here and be right in.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Lexa asked, looking at the many baskets on the table in front of them. The blonde gave her a smile and a nod, and she shrugged. “Alright,” she replied, leaning forward and placing a quick kiss to Clarke's cheek. “We'll see you in a minute.” Clarke nodded again and then was left cleaning up the table as Lexa followed an excited Tris and Calvin back into the ice rink, an equally excited Skylar bouncing in her arms.  
  
If she hadn't been busy trying to get Tris to sit still long enough to get her skates securely on while Skylar stood beside her, constantly shoving Doggie or Mr. Giraffe in her face, Lexa probably would have noticed it took Clarke longer to simply clear off the table than it should. With the distractions though, she didn't realize a full five minutes had gone by until she stood up from where she'd been kneeling in front of Tris and saw her wife approaching, two pairs of skates in her hands. One had been the pair she'd been using all night, and the other had the ice arena's logo on their side. It was this pair Lexa looked at, brow pulling down in confusion.  
  
“What are those?” she asked as soon as Clarke was close enough to hear, and the question only made her wife smirk. “They're skates, Lexa,” she said easily, and Lexa rolled her eyes at the obvious answer. “Yes I can see that Clarke, but why do you have them? You have your own pair.”  
  
“These are for you,” she answered, holding the extra pair out between them. Lexa looked down at them, thoroughly confused.  
  
“You know I don't skate,” she stated, and Clarke just gave her a shrug. “Yeah I do, but I figured since Tris is learning and Cal already knows, tonight should be your first lesson.” She grinned and then gave her a wink, adding, “I'm told I'm a pretty good teacher.”  
  
“Clarke, I don't-” she began, but quickly got interrupted as Cal mirrored the blonde's grin. “Yeah Ma, come on, you should learn!” he said. “It's fun!”  
  
“Yeah!” Tris agreed, her grin a little smaller than theirs but no less evident. Lexa looked between her and the blonde, thinking for a second she might have found a way out of this. “But Clarke, you are supposed to be teaching Tris,” she argued, shaking her head. “I don't want to take your attention away from her.”  
  
Octavia slung an arm over the little girl's shoulder, a smug smile tugging at her lips. “Don't you worry Lexa, I'd be happy to help Tris with her skating. Besides, if she's gonna be playing hockey next year I might as well start giving her some pointers now.” Tris beamed up at her, eyes bright with both excitement and amusement, and Lexa felt her gut twist as her excuse to not do this was ripped away from her. The next second she felt little fingers grip tightly around her pant leg and glanced down, eyes brightening as another thought came to her.  
  
“I can't leave Skylar,” she stated, bending over to pick up the toddler. As she stood up however, Raven reached over and plucked the little girl from her arms, her face shining in absolute delight at Lexa's resistance. Bouncing Sky and making her laugh, she flashed a grin over to the hesitant brunette. “Don't you worry about us, Lexa, we'll be just fine while you go out there and do some twirling.”  
  
“I will make sure they are actually fine,” Anya assured her, shooting a little glare at Raven before turning on Lexa, her expression shifting into a smirk. “Stop trying to make up excuses and go let your wife try to teach you how to skate. I wish her the best of luck.”  
  
Lexa glanced back and forth between them all, not able to think of a single good reason to refuse, and finally sighed before grabbing the skates from Clarke. She sat and put them on, the insides immediately pinching her toes and she scowled at them, not entirely happy about this. She'd never really skated before, or if she had she'd been too young to remember it now, and had no real desire to go out there and try. Watching people fall was enough for her, she didn't need to be out there doing it, especially in front of all her friends. Pushing herself up once both skates were securely tied she already began to wobble, the thin metal blades she now balanced on nothing like what she was used to. Even as she tried to take her first step she knew she was about to fall, but then she felt a hand grab hers and was unsurprised to see Clarke, still grinning at her as she guided her the couple of feet to the ice entrance. With their gloved fingers intertwining, Lexa followed, eyes now down and watching her feet as she stepped onto the ice.  
  
Just that first step onto the slippery surface and Lexa knew she was a goner. The foot on the ice began to slide forward while the other remained on the padded floor just outside the rink, and she felt herself begin to fall into what could only end up being a split. Before she could sink too far however Clarke was beside her, one hand still holding her own while the other wrapped around Lexa's waist to rest lightly on her side.  
  
“Come on,” she murmured, her face close to Lexa's with their bodies so close together, “I've got you.” Lexa took a deep breath and stepped entirely into the rink, knees locking as Clarke guided them towards the center of the ice.  
  
“Don't I need a chair?” Lexa asked, looking to the side and seeing a boy who didn't look like he was yet a teenager struggling with one of the folding chairs a few yards away. Clarke's grip on her waist tightened and she shook her head. “Nope,” she answered, flashing Lexa a smile. “I'll be your chair.” The brunette's legs wobbled, the skates feeling completely foreign on her feet, and Clarke's hold on her only got tighter. “Don't worry,” she promised, squeezing their fingers. Lexa glanced over, finding bright blue shining as she watched her. “I won't let you fall.”  
  
Somehow, the words seemed to be all Lexa needed. She suddenly relaxed, leaning into Clarke's side, and let the blonde guide her. She did as her wife told her, trying her best to mirror the way Clarke's legs moved, the way she positioned her feet. Her body moved along with the blonde's, and any time she felt as though she were about to fall down Clarke caught her, smiling beside her. Lexa stopped paying quite so much attention to her feet and instead focused on her love, the two sharing this moment of easy peace as they skated lazy figure eights on one end of the ice. Everyone else seemed to gravitate around them as they moved, no one wanting to interrupt the two women who skated with barely any space between them.  
  
“Go Lexa!” they heard suddenly, the shouts breaking through their moment. Raven and Anya stood on the other side of the ice rink wall, Raven's hands cupped around her mouth. “Woo woo!” Those with skates on stood on the other side of the wall, also all watching the two women as they moved together, and Lexa rolled her eyes, lips beginning to curl up while Clarke's pulled back into a wide grin. “Go Ma!” Calvin shouted, pumping his fist in the air, the other kids all cheering around him while Octavia joined in with Raven's cheers. Lost in the moment, they heard Tris laugh beside Calvin, a wide smile on her face. “Yeah, go Mama!”  
  
The one single word did them in. Taken so entirely by surprise, Clarke and Lexa both jerked, eyes widening for one reason one second and then another the next. Without warning their skates slid right out from underneath them, and when one moment the two had been gliding easily together, very much upright, the next Lexa felt herself flying backwards, her side coming down hard on the ice before the rest of her fell back. She heard and then felt Clarke crash beside her, their legs nearly tangling up on the ice. They laid there for a second sprawled out on their backs, trying to fully process what they'd just heard.  
  
Even though she knew she would be nothing but one big bruise tomorrow, and even though the chill of the ice easily ate through her jacket, Lexa's mouth turned up into possibly her biggest smile ever. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the exact same smile on Clarke's lips.  
  
“She called me Mama,” she whispered, tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. She stared up at the bright lights of the ceiling, too giddy to care about literally anything other than the single word. “She called me Mama.”  
  
“She called you Mama,” Clarke echoed beside her almost at the same time, astonishment and ecstasy mixed in her voice. “She did. Lexa, she called you Mama!”  
  
And then, as Octavia and Lincoln were skating over to them in concern and the children and Anya and Raven all watched, the two women burst out into overjoyed laughter, their fingers still forever tied together between them. They laid there on the ice with their family and dozens of strangers watching, and just laughed as their hearts burst with absolute and complete joy.  
  
It had taken months and countless tears and more heartache than any of them could measure, but Tris's walls finally fell down, even for just a moment, as she called Lexa “Mama.” Without a doubt, it was one of the happiest moments of either of their lives and all either of them could do was lay there together on the cold ice, basking in the moment as their hearts burst.  
  
It was absolutely going to be a very happy new year.


	13. Chapter Thirteen - Heroes

_One Year Later_

“Alright,” Miss Cartwig called out as the class of fourth graders started to shove books and notebooks into their bags. With only a couple minutes left to go of the day before a long weekend, she knew she needed to get this out fast if she expected anyone to actually listen. “We've been talking about heroes all week, now it's your turn to tell me what you think a hero is. For Monday I want everyone to come in with something. You could write a story about a hero or what makes a hero. Write an essay on who your hero is and why; do whatever you want, but I want to know your thoughts. Have fun with this, and be prepared to share with the class. Everyone got it?”  
  
A general murmuring of agreement rumbled throughout the room and the teacher grinned at them all even as the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the day. Without another word from the teacher the students all began to stand up, grabbing their bags and flipping their chairs onto their desks before they lightly pushed and prodded their way out of the classroom.  
  
Calvin hung back a little as his fellow classmates began to make a mad dash for the exit. He moved more slowly, taking his time while putting up his chair as he thought over this new assignment. For the past few days they'd been talking about heroes on and off in the classroom, and while this certainly wouldn't be the least fun homework he'd ever had, his brow furrowed just a little as he began to think it over. There were too many options to choose from, both in subject and in delivery, and he had a hard time narrowing it down.  
  
“Hey, come on,” he heard beside him, and then felt someone lightly nudge his shoulder with their own. His best friend Glenn stood waiting for him, giving him a look while he shifted impatiently from one foot to the other, glancing every now and then towards the door. “We gotta go. I don't wanna miss the bus cause you're spacing out.”  
  
“Okay okay, I'm coming,” he replied, shrugging his shoulder away from his friend's and then giving him a grin, and followed the other boy out of the room and through the hallway. There they fell in with the stampede of students making their getaway, most of them clearly ecstatic the school day was over and the long weekend had officially begun. As much as Calvin liked school, he couldn't help but let their excitement get to him too, and soon he was walking just as quickly as Glenn, fingers holding tightly to the strap of the bag over his shoulder so it wouldn't get knocked away from him and lost in the crowd. They followed the flow of their fellow elementary students down the hall and through the front doors, and soon they were making their way onto the bus. Glenn lived only a few streets over from him, which meant they'd been taking the same bus ever since kindergarten. It had been one of the things that brought them together in the first place, and now they shambled towards the back of the bus, trying to ignore the loud conversations already taking place from the students who'd beaten them on. As he made his way back, Calvin caught sight of Tris sitting with Jonas, his sister excitedly talking about something complete with hand gestures, and tried not to grin as he walked by them.  
  
“Three day weekend, here I come!” Glenn exclaimed as he plopped down into his usual seat almost all the way in the back. Calvin took the seat directly in front of him, shifting over so he could lean against the window and look over his shoulder. “I love long weekends! It should like be a law or something that every weekend is three days!”  
  
Calvin nodded, in full agreement, and then grinned as Emma made her way over to him, shrugging out of her backpack before taking her spot in the seat next to him. Normally she didn't take this bus since her house was in another part of town, but at least once a week she and Jonas went to their house after school, usually when their parents had meetings they had to go to once school was out, and this was one of those days. She let out a big puff of air, blowing a few wiry wisps of curls out of her face, and fell back against the seat.  
  
“How come when we have long weekends teachers give us more homework?” she wanted to know, shifting her bag on her lap, and even just by eyeballing it Cal could tell she had a number of books in there. “It's not fair: just cause we have an extra day doesn't mean I want to spend it doing more math problems.”  
  
“Miss Cartwig was actually pretty nice,” Glenn told her, leaning forward and resting his chin against his arms as they crossed over the back of their seat. “We have pretty much the usual stuff. Except for the paper we gotta write. But that sounds like it might be kinda cool.”  
  
“What is it?” she asked, and he answered, “We're supposed to write about heroes. Our favorite heroes if we want, or we can make a story up.” He shrugged, lifting only his shoulders. “I think we can kinda do whatever we want.”  
  
“See, that sounds pretty cool,” Emma stated, rolling her eyes. “How come you guys get to do that, and I'm stuck with extra math?” Glenn grinned toothily. “I guess Miss Cartwig is just that much cooler than Mr. Ridley.” She stuck her tongue out at him and his grin grew before he leaned back in his seat, hands going behind his head. As he moved so did the bus, the last few students having gotten on and taken their seats, and Calvin rummaged through his backpack, pulling out a notebook and pencil. As the bus began to roll forward he looked down at it, starting to doodle as he normally did as he listened to his two best friends bicker on their way home.  
  
“So who are you gonna write about?” Emma asked, turning a little more fully around and quirking an eyebrow at Glenn. The boy's grin turned into more of a smirk and he looked up, telling her, “Uh, only the absolute coolest superhero ever: Spider-Man!” She scoffed, rolling her eyes again as she stated, “Um, Spider-Man is nowhere near the coolest superhero ever.”  
  
“Are you crazy?” Glenn demanded, pushing forward again in his seat. “He is too the coolest! What could possibly be cooler than spraying webs out of your hands and jumping from building to building with it? Plus he's just a teenager, but still kicks just as much butt as the adult superheroes! He's awesome!”  
  
“Hm,” Emma said, clearly not impressed. Rather than get involved in a conversation about what superhero was the best, she continued, “I don't know, if I was writing a paper about a hero I think I'd probably pick someone who was real. Like maybe Harriet Tubman. Or Oprah.”  
  
“No way,” Glenn scoffed, “Spider-Man's way cooler than them.” Looking over at Calvin, the other boy focused on his sketch, he asked, “What about you, Cal? Who're you gonna write about?”  
  
“Dunno,” Calvin answered with a shrug. He looked up from his sketch, staring out the window for a second as he tried to decide. “Maybe Van Gogh?” His mum had taken him to the museum a couple of weeks ago, and he'd really liked his paintings a lot. Since then he'd been trying to see if he could paint like that, but so far none of his paintings had felt quite right, and they definitely didn't look as good.  
  
“That artist guy you like?” Glenn asked, his face scrunching up. “Come on dude, you could write about anyone, and you're gonna go with him?”  
  
“Hey, Cal can write about whoever he wants,” Emma informed him, coming to her best friend's defense as always. Calvin shot her a quick smile, just a little thank you, and then shrugged again. “I don't know, he's just one idea. I was also thinking maybe Professor X? Who could be a bigger hero than the guy who created the X-Men?” Glenn's head tilted slightly to the side, apparently pondering the idea over, before he started to nod slowly. “Okay, now that one's a cool idea. He might not be as cool as Spider-Man, but you're right, he did make the X-Men, so there's that.”  
  
The conversation continued for the twenty minutes Calvin and Emma were on the bus, the three friends bouncing ideas back and forth over who the best hero was and what made one better than the rest, until finally the bus came to a stop in front of the Griffin-Woods' house. Glenn grinned at them as they stood up, calling out a quick good luck to him that Cal sent right back, and then he followed Emma down the aisle, Tris and Jonas already heading down the steps. Almost the moment he stepped off the bus the door closed and then was on its way again, and he followed his sister and friends to their front gate. Already he could see his mother smiling at them, her brown hair falling over her shoulders as she continued to push Skylar in her swing. They'd gotten the swing set over the summer and ever since Skylar had loved using it whenever possible. It wasn't anything fancy, just a toddler swing and a regular swing attached to the wooden structure with a bright yellow plastic slide off to one side, but even so they all managed to have fun with it on a regular occasion.  
  
“Hey guys, how was school?” his Ma asked as Tris led the way into the yard, easily pushing the gate open in front of her. The moment they all stepped inside Pauna bounded up to them, her butt wagging in excitement as it always did when they got home, and Calvin grinned at her, tossing his backpack and notebook to the side so he could kneel down and give her scratches.  
  
“Okay,” Tris answered, also tossing her bag down. As she did Skylar beamed over at her, happily exclaiming, “Twis!” Immediately following it she looked over at Calvin, adding just as happily, “Calbin! You'we back!” Tris grinned over at her, moving directly over to the swing set and grabbing her swing, stopping it in mid-air so she could blow a loud raspberry against her sister's cheek. Sky started giggling, half-heartedly pushing her away.  
  
“We're back!” Tris agreed as she pulled back a little from the younger girl, “And we're free for three whole days!”  
  
“Woohoo!” Jonas exclaimed, obviously just as excited as he ran over to the swing set leaving his bag on the grass by the gate and jumped on the open swing. “Freedom!”  
  
“Careful Jonas,” Lexa warned him, noticing how the plastic swing shook from the force of his jump. “Don't hurt yourself now or you'll have to spend your vacation on the couch as you heal.” He just grinned at her and then pushed off from the ground, sending the swing back against its chains and then letting it take him forward again. “Don't worry, I won't get hurt.”  
  
As he continued to scratch Pauna behind her good ear, Calvin looked around the yard. “Where's Mum?” he asked, “Isn't she supposed to be home?” His other mother nodded towards the house, telling him, “She's getting some sleep so she can be ready for her next shift tonight.” Glancing up at the windows on the second story of their house, he nodded; his blonde mother sometimes worked strange hours at the hospital, so it wasn't entirely odd to come home to find out she was in bed. That never seemed to last very long once they were all home, and Calvin wondered if his Ma had brought Skylar out here to meet them all off the bus in the hopes of letting her get more sleep. Figuring that probably was why he let it drop and looked around the yard, searching for something, and then moved over to it when he found it. Pauna's little tail began wagging even harder when she saw he had her favorite ball, and he grinned before lobbing it over to the other side of the yard. Despite the space not being very big the dog still took off after it, clearly determined to get it. Emma moved over to join him, helping him wrestle the ball from the dog's mouth when she brought it back over, and they took turns throwing it for her.  
  
“So what about the rest of you?” Lexa asked, looking around at the other three, all seeming to be perfectly content with the entertainment they found. “How were your days?”  
  
“Mr. Ridley gave us extra math problems because of the long weekend,” Emma told her, scrunching her nose up at just the thought. “Obviously he doesn't get that long weekends aren't _for_ homework, they're for fun.”  
  
“Yuck,” Jonas said, sticking his tongue out. “Agreed,” Lexa added, flashing a quick smile at the boy still pumping away on the swing. Stepping away from the swing set, Tris now taking over pushing her sister, she sat down in one of the plastic folding chairs they'd put out there months ago and split her focus, one eye on the two and a half-year old in the swing and those with her and the other on the two tossing the ball for the dog. “I never liked it when teachers gave out more homework on long weekends either.” Watching as her son tried to get Pauna to release the ball, she asked, “What about you, Cal? What do you have for homework?”  
  
“The usual,” he answered with a shrug. Finally managing to get the ball out of Pauna's jaw, he tossed it again, adding, “And I have to write a paper about my hero, or what I think a hero is. Something like that.” From the edge of his vision, he saw her brow lift. “That sounds like an interesting assignment. Do you know what you're going to write about yet?”  
  
“Nah,” he said. “Glenn's gonna write about Spider-Man, but I haven't decided yet. I'm thinking maybe Professor X?”  
  
Emma rolled her eyes beside him, informing him, “I still think you should write about someone real. You were talking about Van Gogh on the bus.” His mother nodded, leaning back in her chair. “Van Gogh would be a good choice, and I'm sure your mother could help you find some research on him. Maybe you could even talk her into taking you back to the museum this weekend to see more of his work.” Calvin grinned at her, not having thought of that, but before he could reply a beat-up truck pulled into their driveway, one they all easily recognized.  
  
“Aunt Raven!” Jonas exclaimed as the woman got out of the truck, lightly slamming the door behind her. Lexa stood up, frowning a little as she began making her way towards the gate. She hadn't been expecting Raven to stop by – not that that wasn't common – and when the other woman moved to the other side of her truck and grabbed a box from it, her lips pulled down further. A second later and she heard yipping coming from the box and could see two little bodies trying to peer over its side, and her eyes widened.  
  
“Raven, what did you do?” she asked warily, and the next thing she knew the other brunette marched into the yard, the biggest of grins on her face. By now the kids were all watching, all having noticed the box too, and the moment Raven was in the yard with the gate closed behind her she placed it on the ground and pulled two puppies out of it, placing them lightly on the grass.  
  
“I got puppies!” she exclaimed excitedly, not so much as looking up from the two little dark bodies clearly trying to decide what they thought about this new place.  
  
“Puppies!” Skylar, Jonas and Emma all exclaimed at once, and just like that Jonas jumped off his swing and raced over to get a closer look. Emma deserted the game with Pauna to join, and Skylar began wiggling frantically in her seat, desperately trying to get down to see them too. Tris helped her get down and then she was off, her little legs taking her across the yard just as fast as any of the bigger kids' did. Tris and Calvin moved over to them a little more slowly, both of them clearly also curious, and Lexa could see the excitement in their faces too.  
  
“Hey, don't crowd them guys, give them a little space,” Lexa called out, knowing the warning wasn't likely to be followed. Rather than listen, Jonas just got closer, crawling towards them on all fours with his face practically against the ground, and Skylar followed right behind him. The two began petting the Rottweiler puppies and laughing as they sniffed and licked at them, and Lexa just shook her head. She felt something press against her leg and heard a soft whine, and looked down to see Pauna eyeing the new dogs warily. “Don't worry Pauna, they aren't staying.” The dog looked up at her as though she were trying to decide if that were the truth or not, and then looked back at the puppies.  
  
“Where did you get them?” Jonas was asking as she focused back on the group, Raven now carefully hunched over as well, her bad leg not keeping her from being as close to her new puppies as possible.  
  
“One of the guys I work with has a friend whose dog had puppies,” she answered. “He showed me a picture of the litter the other day and I decided I wanted one. When I went to see them though these two little guys refused to be separated so I got 'em both.”  
  
“What're their names?” Emma wanted to know, and the question just made Raven's grin grow. She pointed to the one Skylar was petting, the darker and slightly larger of the two. “This is Rover,” she said, and Lexa fought not to roll her eyes. Raven was the only adult she knew who would actually name a dog Rover. “And this,” she continued, shifting over to the one Jonas was busy making faces at, “is Boom.”  
  
“Boom?” Tris asked, face scrunching up. “That's a weird name.” Lexa could have sworn she noticed a quick twinkle in Raven's eyes. “He's Boom because-” she began to explain, but then the same puppy was yipping, clearly trying to appear threatening when in reality even Lexa had a hard time not melting a little. The other woman nodded to the puppy, continuing with, “That. He was the runt of the litter but the loudest, so he's Boom. Rover and Boom, my boys.” As though they already knew who their mother was, both puppies turned around and moved over to her, Rover attempting to climb up in her lap.  
  
“It looks like you've got a couple of lap dogs,” Lexa stated, eyebrows rising a little. “Hopefully they don't still think that way when they're bigger.”  
  
“They can be my lap dogs as long as they want,” Raven crooned, speaking more to the puppies than to the other brunette. “Isn't that right, you guys can sit in my lap whenever you want you big ol' softies.”  
  
“Are there more puppies?” Jonas wanted to know, eyes shining. Before Raven even had a chance to answer, he turned to his sister. “You think Mom and Dad will let us get one?!”  
  
“No,” Emma answered honestly, giving a little shrug. “Mom might be up for it, but Dad wouldn't be.” Jonas pouted, not at all happy with the answer, but the pout went away as Boom turned back around, clearly ready to do some exploring. He looked around a little bit and then seemed to zero in on Pauna, the bigger dog still pressed up against her mother, and then he began yipping again, his little stub of a tail wagging as he began tromping his way over. Pauna whined again and tried to hide behind Lexa's legs but Boom just followed her and soon the puppy was chasing her around the brunette, loving this new game while Pauna just tried to get away.  
  
“Hey, leave her alone Boom,” Lexa told him even though she was entirely aware the puppy wouldn't understand her. “Boom, come here,” Raven called as she pushed herself back up to her feet. The puppy didn't listen to either of them and Lexa was just about to reach down to grab the little guy when a new voice interrupted.  
  
“Pauna, come here girl,” they all heard, and Lexa looked over to the house to see Clarke now standing in the doorway. The older dog shot away from one mother to move over to the other, the puppy trying to follow her but struggling to keep up on shorter legs that had only mastered the art of walking in recent weeks. Clarke held the door open, reaching down and giving Pauna a soothing scratch beneath her muzzle. “It's okay Pauna, why don't you just go inside? Go see what Panther is up to.” The next second and the Boxer mix disappeared into the house, probably to do exactly what her mother had suggested, and the blonde closed the door as Boom was struggling up the steps in an attempt to follow. “I don't think so little guy,” she said, carefully grabbing him and picking him up, and then she made her way into the yard carrying the puppy with her. As she moved she gave Raven a mild look, a single eyebrow quirked up, and her old friend grinned at her.  
  
“Sorry about that, he's just a curious little rascal with a lot of energy,” she said, reaching out to take the puppy from her. Rover followed her, looking up at his brother, and Boom yipped down at him until he was back on the grass. As soon as he was the two began wrestling, the kids all still watching them.  
  
“I can see that,” Clarke replied, eyeing first the puppies and then her friend. “Puppies Raven? Are you sure you have time for that?”  
  
“Sure,” Raven answered, giving a partial shrug. “I'm gonna bring them to the shop with me. I'll set up a little area for them to stay in while we're there, and then when they're older they can just roam around.” She looked down at the puppies still wrestling at her feet, and both women could see her love for them already shining in her eyes. “They're the only babies I'll ever need.” She said the words to the dogs, her voice almost sing-song, and now both Clarke and Lexa had to fight to hold back a grin. Instead the blonde just shook her head, saying, “Okay then, I guess I'm glad you have them. They are pretty cute.”  
  
“Are you kidding, they're the cutest freaking things you've ever seen!” the mechanic exclaimed, not even looking up as Clarke rolled her eyes and shook her head. Glancing over at Lexa, she gave her a look, saying, “I can think of a few things just as cute or cuter, but I'll let you have your new mom moment.” Lexa returned her grin and moved over to her, slipping her arm lightly around her wife's waist.  
  
“Shouldn't you be sleeping?” she asked, now probably the only one not entirely focused on the new puppies. The blonde shrugged, giving her a little smile as she said, “I'm fine, I got about five hours. I'll try to take another quick power nap before I have to go in tonight, but if I don't it won't be a big deal.” Lexa gave her a look, clearly thinking it wasn't enough, and Clarke's lips curled up a little further. She leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to the brunette's cheek, telling her after, “Really Lexa, I'm good.”  
  
“Aunt Clarke, do _you_ think I can get a puppy if there are any more?” Jonas asked suddenly, interrupting them. The blonde turned down to him, grinning as she shook her head. “Sorry dude, that's really not up to me. You could probably convince your mom, but I'm not so sure about your dad.” He frowned and looked away, probably trying to formulate an argument for his father on why he needed a dog, and Clarke shook her head again before looking back up at Raven. “Look what you did,” she accused, gesturing to the boy. “You just made Lincoln's life probably ten times harder.” The mechanic didn't at all seem put off by that, just stuck her chest out proudly. “You can't fight the puppy power, Clarke. It's futile to even try.”  
  
“We gedda puppy?” Skylar suddenly asked, big eyes turning up pleadingly to her mothers, and at that Lexa shot a quick scowl at the other brunette as Raven's lips curled up in a quick grin. Clarke didn't even bother looking at her friend, just looked down at her youngest daughter and shook her head. “Sorry Sky, no puppy for us. That would just make Pauna sad and we don't want to do that.” Skylar frowned at that, thinking it over, and then shook her head too. “Nope nope, no sad PauPau.” As she spoke she moved over to them and held up her arms, and on cue Clarke reached down, hauling her up to balance against her hip.  
  
“Are you gonna teach them any tricks?” Jonas wanted to know, glancing up from the puppies to Raven. The mechanic nodded emphatically, telling him, “Well duh, of course I'll teach them tricks! I might need help though, if you're up for it.” He beamed at that, apparently for the moment deciding not to worry about not having his own dog, and then plopped down on the grass in front of them. Reaching out, he pulled Rover away from Boom, the two still happily wrestling, and then said loudly, “Rover, Boom; sit.” Rover tilted his head a little, giving the boy a curious look while Boom tried to keep wrestling. Jonas pulled them apart again and repeated, “Sit. Come on guys, sit!”  
  
While Jonas tried to teach the puppies how to sit on command, Lexa and Clarke migrated over to the chairs, each taking a seat and just watching everyone else. Tris ended up joining Jonas, the two working together to keep the puppies distracted enough not to try to go back to wrestling, and Raven watched on, adding in her own commands that were entirely ignored by her new children. After a few minutes of watching Calvin and Emma moved over to the swing set, Emma getting right on the swing while Calvin climbed up to the top of the slide, just sitting there for a while as he and his best friend talked. For a long while they all managed to entertain themselves, Rover and Boom a main source of that entertainment, until a van pulled into their driveway, and almost before Octavia was even out of the passenger's seat Clarke was rolling her eyes.  
  
“PUPPIES!” she all but yelled, ditching her car to run to the gate and let herself into the yard. The second she was inside she practically threw herself onto the grass, a smile splitting her face as the two little Rotties began to inspect her, sniffing and licking her hands and face. Lincoln moved around the van and then leaned against it, arms crossing over his chest as he very purposefully did not follow her.  
  
“Who got the puppies?!” Octavia demanded, looking quickly between the couple still sitting by the house and Raven beside her. Clarke's eyebrow tilted up before she replied, “Like we have the time for puppies.” The answer made the brunette turn to Raven, and the other woman just smirked. “Meet my new babies, Rover and Boom.”  
  
“They're so cute I can't even make fun of you for those names,” Octavia decided, turning all her attention back to the two puppies who were once again wrestling with each other, and when Boom began yipping at his brother she added, “Ahh okay, I get it. Boom.” Reaching out, she picked up the smaller dog and held him to her chest. “When you get bigger you're gonna have a real boom!”  
  
“Mom, can we get a puppy?” Jonas asked, clasping his hands in front of him and looking at her with big, hopeful eyes. Octavia opened her mouth to answer, but before she could her husband answered for her.  
  
“No,” Lincoln called out, giving his wife a look. “We can't get a puppy. Not right now.”  
  
“But Da-ad!” Jonas tried, tossing his pitiful look over to him, and Clarke did her best to hold in her laugh as Octavia shot him almost the same look. Lincoln didn't wither beneath either, just shook his head. “Sorry bud, but we don't have time for a puppy right now. Mom and I are too busy to take care of one.”  
  
“I'd help...” Jonas muttered even as his mother sighed. She looked at the puppy she was still holding and then forced herself to put him down. “Your Dad's right, a puppy isn't a good idea right now,” she finally agreed, pushing herself up to her feet again. “Maybe when you're a little older we can talk about getting a dog.” Eyes flickering to Raven, she added, “But I bet Aunt Raven wouldn't have a problem with you visiting every now and then to play with Boom and Rover.”  
  
“Course not,” she said, flicking her wrist. Flashing a grin down at Jonas, she continued, “Remember, I still need someone to help me train them.” The boy grinned at her and then jumped up, throwing his arms around her waist. “Thanks Aunt Raven!”  
  
“No problem, kid,” she replied, and then shot a smug grin at the three adults in the yard. “I so just became the favorite aunt. There's no contest anymore.” Lexa simply gave her a look of mild interest while Clarke and Octavia both rolled their eyes.  
  
“Not a chance, Raven,” Clarke informed her. Octavia nodded, saying, “Yeah, no way. I'm so the favorite still, puppies aren't gonna change that. Even if they are adorable.” That just made the blonde give her a look too, lifting her eyebrows, and they both smirked at her.  
  
“Hate to cut this short, but I've got a pair of twins in the car, and if they're left alone any longer they'll probably try to make a run for it,” Lincoln stated, hooking his thumb over his shoulder to point at the van. “Birches, time to go.”  
  
“You heard the man!” Octavia exclaimed, looking to her two children in the yard. She grinned at them and then bobbed her head towards the van. “Everyone load up!” Emma vacated the swing set and grabbed her backpack before making her way over to the van and Jonas gave the puppies one last look before following. Their mother watched them go, still grinning, and then looked over to Clarke and Lexa and gave them a nod. “Thanks for watching them guys,” she called over to them. “We owe you.”  
  
“No you don't,” Clarke replied, brushing it away. “You know we're always happy to help.” Octavia gave her another nod and then grinned at Raven, telling her, “See ya, Rae. Thanks for giving my son puppy-fever.” Raven tossed her a mock salute. “Anytime, it's what I'm here for.” Octavia shook her head, lips still curled up, and then followed her kids out of the yard and to the van. Soon the family had all piled inside and were off, headed home where Lincoln would probably have to continue the battle against getting a dog solo. Before too long Raven gathered up her new babies and headed out as well, and as her truck disappeared down the road Clarke looked around the yard at her three children.  
  
“Alright Tris, how about we go start getting dinner ready?” she said, and her oldest daughter nodded. “Kay,” she agreed, and then led the way into the house, everyone else following along behind her after she and Calvin grabbed their own backpacks.  
  
Inside, Clarke and Tris immediately got settled in the kitchen, the two easily falling into the routine they'd developed over a year ago now. Skylar disappeared into the living room and almost immediately came back waving a book around, taking it directly to her other mother and giving her a look with wide eyes. None of them could ever really say no to that look and this time was no exception, so Lexa grabbed the little girl and settled her on her lap at the table, taking the book and opening it in front of them. As she began to read about Harold and his purple crayon, Calvin went searching for Pauna, finding her curled up on the end of the couch in the living room, Panther sprawled out on the back of the couch above her, as though he were watching over her. Pauna's head lifted up as he approached her, her tail starting to wag again.  
  
“Hey there girl,” he murmured, fingers immediately going behind her ear to give her a few scratches. “Don't worry, the puppies are gone.” As if she understood him she sat up further, leaning forward to press lightly against his chest. His smile grew, fingers still scratching her, and with his free hand he reached up and began petting Panther too. The cat began purring lightly, his eyes closing for a minute while the pets continued, but when Calvin pulled away he didn't move, simply remained in his spot. Pauna did, jumping off the couch and following him as he made his way back into the kitchen.  
  
“Let me do it,” he heard as he entered the room, and looked over to see his sister and mother both standing on one side of the island, Tris up on her usual chair to easily be able to see everything.  
  
“Wash your hands first, and then you can,” their Mum told her, and Tris nodded before jumping down and moving to the sink, stretching a little to turn the water on. As she was busy washing up, Clarke dumped a package of ground beef into the bowl in front of her and began adding seasonings to it. Hands now clean, Tris moved back to her chair, and with a nod from the blonde she dove in, squishing the meat between her fingers. “Make sure you get all of the seasonings mixed in evenly,” Clarke advised, and the girl rolled her eyes a little even as the corners of her lips quirked up. “I know.”  
  
“Burgers?” Calvin asked, moving to the other side of the island and pulling himself up onto one of the stools. His Mum nodded as she gestured back to the oven, adding, “And of course french fries. I figured it would be a good way to start your vacation.”  
  
“I love burgers,” Tris stated, lifting up a bit of beef and squeezing it, watching it fall back into the bowl. “Making them and eating them!”  
  
“Me too,” Lexa agreed as Skylar hopped off her lap, running into the living room to trade one book for another. Apparently they'd finished the first one, and the mother took the few seconds she had before the toddler would return to flash them all a smile. “Definitely the right start to any weekend.”  
  
“Pillar!” Skylar exclaimed as she came running back into the room, holding _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_ over her head. For weeks now it had been her favorite, to the point where it was read at least once a day. Lexa let out a little sigh, still smiling, before she reached down and hauled the little girl back up on her lap. Pauna left Calvin's side and moved over to her mother and Skylar, leaning lightly against her legs before laying down by her feet, entirely content.  
  
“So how was school?” Clarke asked, looking between her two oldest children as she began pulling lettuce, cheese and tomatoes from the fridge. Tris rolled her eyes, finally taking her hands out of the bowl. “Long. Boring. Like always.”  
  
“Go wash your hands again please,” the mother told her, and this time Tris hopped down without rolling her eyes. Clarke shifted over to the sink to turn on the faucet for her, and as she did continued, “It couldn't have all been boring. Nothing interesting happened today?”  
  
“Nope,” she replied, shaking her head. She thought for a second and then gave a little shrug. “Millie Brown brought in a picture of her grandpa from the Korean War for show and tell; that was kind of cool.” Turning away from the sink and taking the towel her Mum offered her, she looked over to her Ma. “Did you know him?”  
  
Clarke's hand clapped over her mouth, trying to hold back a laugh as Lexa looked up quickly from her book. “I did _not_ fight in the Korean War,” she stated, giving her daughter a look. “How old do you think I am?” Tris shrugged nonchalantly, barely even looking at her mother. “I dunno, old. When was the Korean War?”  
  
“In the fifties, a long time ago,” Clarke answered before giving the girl a playful nudge, “Which I'm sure you will learn about at some point in school.” Glancing over at her wife, she added, “Mama isn't _quite_ old enough to have fought in it.”  
  
“Hey!” Lexa exclaimed, now giving the blonde the same look. “I'm only a few months older than you.”  
  
“That still makes you older,” Clarke teased, flashing a smirk over at her wife. She didn't wither under the glare the brunette gave her as most people would, instead entirely ignored it as she reached into the bowl and started to break the beef up into patties.  
  
“ _Anyway_ ,” Lexa stated, pointedly trying to move away from that particular subject. Looking back at their two oldest, she said, “Speaking of war and soldiers, you guys remember we're going to the VA tomorrow? Ryder's expecting us around ten.” Both kids nodded as Skylar looked up, clearly excited. “Wyder!” The mother flashed her a quick smile, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head. Skylar still continually went to the VA with her, the soldiers all there expecting her by now, and it was almost entertaining to watch how a bunch of seasoned soldiers absolutely melted the second the toddler started laughing about anything.  
  
“I'll be joining you guys as soon as my shift ends,” Clarke added, and at that Lexa looked up, brow furrowing a little. “You don't need to do that, Clarke,” she told her, looking over at her wife. “After a twelve hour shift you should come home and get some sleep.” The blonde glanced over at her with her head still tilted down towards the patties she was making, giving her an amused look through her eyelashes. “Lexa, it's Veterans Day; I'm going to spend as much of it as possible with my veteran wife and our veteran friends. Deal with it.”  
  
“Clarke,” Lexa tried again, but when she saw her wife's eyebrows rise she trailed off, entirely familiar with the stubborn look. After the many years they'd been together, she knew there was no winning against it. “Fine,” she let out in a sigh, “But if you get tired while we're there you will ride home with us. We can go back to pick up your car the next day.” She noticed the corners of the blonde's mouth twitch a little before she replied simply, “Yes dear.”  
  
With that Clarke turned around, checking the pan she'd already put on one of the burners to see how hot it was, and then began placing the patties inside it, the heat from it immediately causing the room to fill with the sound of sizzling meat. Beside her Tris moved to the fridge, opening it and rummaging around for the condiments she hadn't gotten out yet. As the blonde placed the last patty in the pan, she looked out of the corner of her eye, seeing her son still relaxing at the island and asked, “What about you, Cal? How was your day?”  
  
He shrugged, telling her, “Good. Miss Cartwig wants us to write a paper about our favorite hero for Monday. She said we can write pretty much whatever we want.” Clarke nodded, turning towards him a little. “That sounds like fun. Who are you going to write about?”  
  
“I dunno,” he replied, the same options he'd already thought about still floating around in his head, but so far none of them really stood out to him. “Glenn's doing his about Spider-Man, so I was thinking maybe I'd write about Professor-X, but I was also thinking maybe Van Gogh? Emma thinks it should be about a real person.”  
  
“I think both options could be a lot of fun,” his mother told him, flashing him a smile. “But I also think you should write about who you want to write about, not who your friends think you should.” He frowned as she turned back to the stove to focus on her burgers, grabbing a spatula out of the drawer beside her. Her answer was nice but it didn't really help him since the whole problem was he didn't know who he wanted to write about. Glancing at her and then over to his Ma with her attention back on Skylar and her story, he asked them curiously, “Who's your guys's hero?”  
  
“Your mother,” they both answered at the exact same time, and the next second Clarke looked over her shoulder as Lexa looked up, their eyes meeting and sharing a little grin. Tris rolled her eyes as she rounded the counter, pulling herself up onto the stool next to Calvin's while he just frowned. “Why?” he wanted to know, wondering how they could have answered so quickly.  
  
“Why?” Lexa repeated, not looking away from the blonde. She stood up, hoisting Skylar with her and leaving the book behind. Moving over to the island, she gently placed the toddler with him, waiting a second to make sure he had her before stepping away again. “Mumma has always been my hero,” she continued, circling around the island to get closer to her wife. “She studied for years and years so she could be a doctor and save people's lives. What's more heroic than that?” Eyes never leaving the other woman she continued forward until she could wrap her arms loosely around the blonde's waist. “She's always been one of the strongest people I know. How could she not be my hero?”  
  
“Look who's talking,” Clarke replied, giving the brunette a look, smiling up at her. Spatula still in hand, she let her arms fall loosely over the brunette's shoulders, pointing the kitchen utensil away from her to keep any grease sticking to it out of her hair. “Your Mama went to school specifically to get ready for the Marines. She left behind everyone she knew and loved so she could go make the world a safer place for us. Lieutenant Woods led one of the most well-known Marine groups for years, risking her life every day and then when she came home she did the same thing when she became a detective. That's strength.” She paused for a second and then glanced over at the three kids, flashing them a grin. “Plus she's the mother of my children; that alone makes her my hero.”  
  
“Same,” Lexa agreed, leaning forward a little, an almost teasing edge to her tone before she closed the space and pressed a long kiss to the blonde's lips.  
  
“Gross,” Tris muttered beside him, and while Calvin agreed, he couldn't help but watch them, brow furrowing just a little as an idea began to slowly form in the back of his mind. 

***

The room felt crowded but not overly so, Calvin sitting in a chair and looking around at everything going on. He sat in the main room at Trikru VA, the normal exercise equipment used to help ex-soldiers build their strength back up or get used to a new prosthetic missing, likely put into storage until the day's event was over. Now extra chairs and tables stood in the empty space, various platters of finger foods spread out along the tables' surfaces. The people milling around the room all seemed to gravitate towards the tables, happy to re-fill plates that had gone empty since their last trip over. Calvin's own plate balanced on his knee, the three meatballs he'd taken already in his stomach along with most of the cheese and crackers. A few carrot sticks and yellow and orange pepper slices still sat on the plate waiting to be eaten, but for the moment he was more interested in looking around the room.  
  
He knew a few of the soldiers from past trips to the center. He didn't come here as often as Sky but both he and Tris had been there before with their Ma, so it wasn't entirely unfamiliar. Of course he knew Ryder, standing on the other side of the room and listening in on a conversation with a few other people, and he even recognized one of them as Atom Ward, one of his mother's friends here. Luna Flouk and Derrik Woda, two more friends of his mother stood by one of the large windows, the two looking like they were engrossed in some deep conversation. Even as he watched Micha Adams rolled back over to one of the food tables for what Cal though was the fourth time, people easily making room for the man in the wheelchair to get by. There were a few others he recognized but didn't know their names, and everyone else was a complete stranger, many of the one-time soldiers blending in with the friends and family members also spread out through the room. Tris sat in a chair next to him, her leg bouncing up and down a little, clearly bored.  
  
“Knock it off,” he muttered, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She turned to meet the look and for a second just stared at him before letting out a little huff. The next moment her leg went still.  
  
“When are we gonna go?” she wanted to know, keeping her voice down but just barely. “I'm _bored_.”  
  
He shrugged. “I don't know. Probably not very soon. Mum hasn't even got here yet.” Tris let out another huff and then leaned back in her chair, far enough her legs could no longer touch the ground which at least meant she wouldn't be able to go back to jiggling her leg. “It feels like we've been here forever,” she complained, and he rolled his eyes. Glancing over at the clock nearby, he told her, “It's only been like two hours.” She gave him a look as though she couldn't believe he'd said that, and then replied, “Like I said; _forever_.”  
  
Cal was about to suggest she go get more to eat when the crowd in the room shifted a little and he noticed their mother coming back in from another room, Skylar balanced against her hip. Unlike Tris Skylar didn't look in the least bit bored, a huge grin on her lips as she looked at everyone around her. In other crowds this big she would be pressed up against their mother's shoulder, maybe even hiding her face against her neck, but here she was perfectly comfortable. Calvin knew it was because she'd been coming here at least once a week with the brunette for over a year now, but it still surprised him every time he saw how comfortable she was.  
  
“Hey guys,” their Ma said as she stepped over to them, nodding and flashing a smiling to those who greeted her as she passed them. Stopping in front of her two oldest children, she quirked an eyebrow at them. “How are you doing? You look a little bored.”  
  
“We are,” Tris groaned as she let her head fall back against the back of her chair dramatically. Lexa's lips pursed, trying to hold in her grin, and she nodded solemnly. “I see,” she said slowly. “Well I bet we could find something for you guys to do.” She looked around the room for a second, eyes skimming over everyone, and then she stopped when she saw the two by the window and the corners of her mouth lifted a little. “You know there's an air hockey table in one of the rooms down that hall,” she continued, looking back at Tris as she nodded towards the hall not far behind them. “Right now Derrick's the reigning champion, but with a little practice maybe you could take him.”  
  
“I don't need practice!” Tris exclaimed as she pushed herself forward and practically jumped out of her chair. “I can take him. Hey Derrick!” The ex-Coast Guard broke off of whatever he had been saying to Luna and turned towards them, even as Lexa shook her head.  
  
“Tris, it's polite to wait until a person has finished talking before you interrupt them,” she advised, giving her daughter a look as she still tried to hide her amusement.  
  
“No worries Heda,” Derrick told her as he walked over, Luna moving right beside him. Glancing down at Tris he flashed her a smile. “What do you need, Tris?”  
  
“I challenge you to a air hockey game!” she replied and his grin grew. “I accept your challenge. Fair warning though, I won't be going easy on you just because you're Heda's daughter.”  
  
“I won't go easy on you either,” Tris declared, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him a smug look to which the corners of his mouth twitched before he nodded. Luna let out a small chuckle and then lightly elbowed his side, telling him, “I think she might give you a run for your money, Woda.”  
  
“We'll see,” he said as he turned and led the way to the awaiting air hockey table. Calvin gave his mother a look and rolled his eyes and then followed them, and Lexa grinned as they disappeared from sight. For a second she considered going with them but then a pair of people stepped up to her, two newer members of the VA, and pulled her into a conversation. Knowing Calvin and Tris would be fine with Luna and Derrik, she allowed herself to get pulled in, giving the two her attention.  
  
For long minutes Lexa talked to the many people in the room, people entering and exiting the conversations freely. Many of the people she knew, most of them the ex-soldiers she'd met over the past year, while others she didn't, friends and family of those same soldiers. Some asked for stories of her time in the Marines, legends of the famous Grounder unit and their first leader apparently still popular today, while others wanted to either ask her about her civilian life or congratulate her on putting this together. Whenever they did she just smiled and nodded and then tried to steer the conversation away from herself and onto something else. Through it all Skylar sat happily against her hip, the toddler's grip no tighter than usual against her shirt as she grinned at everyone around her.  
  
“Skylar c'mere,” she heard as the man and woman she'd been talking to stepped away, the man a former Navy man and she his wife. The toddler's grin grew as Lexa turned towards the voice, reaching out to the man wheeling himself over to them. Micha flashed a grin to first Lexa and then the toddler before he stopped beside them, arms lifting up to her. “You don't want to be with your Mama anymore when you can come wheeling with Uncle Micha!”  
  
“Micha!” the little girl seemed to agree, grasping out towards him, and Lexa shifted her over at the silent demand. “Alright I get it,” she mumbled softly, lips curling up as her daughter happily plopped herself down in the man's lap. “Traitor.”  
  
“You can't blame her for wanting to have a little fun,” Micha told her, tilting his head up and shooting her another grin. Looking back at the toddler whose head fell back to look up at him, he added, “Let's ride, Skylar!” She shrieked in glee as he began wheeling them forward quickly, the other people loitering around quickly getting out of his way.  
  
“Be careful with her,” Lexa called after him, “My wife will skin us both alive if anything happens to her!” He waved over his shoulder, telling her without looking back, “Don't you worry Heda, I'll take good care of her! We're just gonna have a little fun. Nothing for you or Wanheda to worry about!” She wasn't entirely sure she believed him as he started popping wheelies in his chair, Skylar still shrieking with laughter.  
  
A hand settled on her shoulder and she tore her eyes away from her youngest daughter to find Ryder standing beside her. He was grinning, the look small but very much evident, amusement flashing through his eyes. “I'm sure he's right and there's nothing to worry about,” he said, also watching the other two. As Micha continued trying to do tricks in his chair to keep the toddler laughing he paused and amended, “Maybe. That or when Clarke gets here he's going to see just how she got her title and he will never dare to take Skylar for a ride again.”  
  
“Maybe then he and everyone else will stop wondering how we could ever be terrified of my 'sweet wife',” Lexa replied evenly, glancing around the room at Micha and the other soldiers there. By now many of them knew Clarke, through story if not in person, and one of the stories they all loved hearing was the one where her wife had caught her in Ryder's hospital room only days after the Reaper attack that had ended both of their careers in the Marines. Despite hearing it from them and both describing the terror they'd felt when Clarke's burning glare had pierced into them in that moment, none of them seemed to be able to believe the blonde they'd seen in pictures on Lexa's phone could be Wanheda, and the ones who had actually met her believed it even less. She thought about the soldiers and their views on her wife, and then added, “Though at least none of them refer to her as my 'hot blonde ex' or 'hot blonde wife' as the Grounders used to.”  
  
“They probably all still do,” he said with a slight shrug and another grin. “And unlike Micha and the rest of the people here, they at least will never forget just how terrifying your wife can be. I know I never will.” Lexa let out a little noise of agreement, one corner of her mouth turning up as she continued to look around the room. As she did Ryder looked at her, and his grin softened a little.  
  
“You did well with this, Heda,” he told her, nodding to the room and everyone there. “It wasn't just me,” she reminded him. “There were a lot of people who helped, including yourself.” He nodded but said, “Yes, but it was your idea and you were right; today is when we should be honoring the sacrifices each of these people made, both soldiers and family members alike. It is good we're able to do that together.”  
  
“It is,” she agreed, and then her voice got a little quieter as she added, “And we should be honoring those who didn't make it back as well.” He looked over at her, seeing the slight shadow flicker across her expression and knew exactly who she was thinking about. The drink table was only a few feet away so he stepped over to it, grabbing two little cups of water, and then handed her one of them. Lifting his up to her, he met her eyes and held them. “To Fio.”  
  
“To Fio,” she murmured, the name still bitter on her tongue, the same guilt she felt whenever she thought about her first fallen comrade twisting inside her. It had lessened over the years, time itself helping her to heal along with the soft words of her patient love, but she knew it would never leave her completely. She raised the cup alongside Ryder's and didn't look away from him until they both tossed the water back, taking it as though it were a shot. She didn't entirely know why they did it other than it just felt right. It would have been better to commemorate the first lost Grounder with a shot of whiskey or something equally as strong, but since all they had was water it would have to do.  
  
A second or two of silence passed between them, the moment now feeling heavy until Ryder managed to shake it off. “You may have had help,” he stated as he gave her a look, “But that doesn't mean you don't deserve credit for this.” He looked down at his empty cup and Lexa's eyes narrowed a little, suddenly seeing something in his expression that made her suspicious. She didn't know what it was or why she felt it, but a moment later she knew her instincts had been right when he looked up again and said evenly, “I have actually been thinking lately and was wondering if you might want to help out more around here. We could use you.”  
  
Lexa blinked, surprised. “Are you offering me a job, Ryder?” He shrugged but nodded, telling her, “It wouldn't pay very much, hardly anything, but yes. I pretty much run the place right now and could use your help.” Before he could even finish talking she was shaking her head, a slight frown pulling at her lips.  
  
“I'm sorry Ryder, but I can't help you,” she told him, a mixture of guilt and something else stirring in her gut. “I would like to, but I can't. I have Skylar. I can bring her to therapy sometimes but I don't think I could bring her here for work every day. ”  
  
“It would not need to be every day,” he replied. “I know your family comes first. Whatever time you could give would be fine, but I also understand if it doesn't work.” He shrugged again, still meeting her eyes. “It was just a thought.”  
  
“I'm sorry,” she said again as she shook her head. “I can't right now.” He nodded and she thought he looked fine with the answer, as though he'd been expecting it, but even so the slight guilt continued to cling to her gut. The center had helped her greatly over the past year and she wanted to give back to it whatever she could, but this just wasn't something she could do, not now. Looking back across the room at her daughter still laughing on Micha's lap, she pushed that guilt away. He was right, her family came first, which meant she just didn't have the time to even think about Ryder's request, let alone consider it. He seemed to understand that and didn't say anything more, their attention pulled away from the offer when three other veterans approached them, and within minutes they were all swapping war stories as Lexa shoved Ryder's offer to the back of her mind to hopefully forget about.  
  
“Is that my daughter popping wheelies with Micha?” she heard a little while later, and turned around to find Clarke standing behind her, arms crossed loosely over her chest, an eyebrow quirked as a small grin tugged at her lips. As always Lexa's automatic reaction to seeing her wife was to smile, though this one turned up a bit sheepishly.  
  
“I told him to be careful,” she informed her, and at that both the blonde's eyebrows lifted, pointedly looking past her to the man in the wheelchair. Lexa didn't follow the look, already knowing whatever Micha was doing now might just get her into trouble. Clarke shook her head, grin not going away as she stepped forward. “Yeah, he looks like he's being real careful.” The two shared a grin before Lexa reached out, pulling Clarke the final step closer to her.  
  
“How was work?” she asked, eyes scanning the other woman's face. She could see the exhaustion pooling at the back of cerulean eyes and made the mental note in that moment that Clarke would be riding home with them and they would get her car later. The blonde just shrugged and then wrapped her arms loosely around her waist and pressed herself closer to the brunette's body, letting her head rest against her shoulder. “Long,” she answered simply. “It felt like a very long shift.”  
  
“Clarke you could have gone home and gone to bed,” Lexa reminded her, even as her own arms wrapped around her wife and held her close. She felt the other woman's head shake a little before Clarke stepped back, just barely breaking out of the hold, their hands coming together instead and fingers slitting into place beside each other. “I wanted to be here with you,” she replied and then looked over Lexa's shoulder to find Ryder not far behind her. “And everyone else. Hi Ryder.”  
  
“Hello Clarke,” he said, giving her a nod. Gesturing back to Micha and Skylar, he added, “Heda did warn him to be careful. She is under the belief you would skin both her and Micha alive if anything were to happen to your daughter.”  
  
The blonde let out a short laugh as she glanced quickly back to Lexa, and the brunette caught the glint of mischief in her eye. “You know, she's probably right about that. So he better not have let anything happen to her because I like my wife's skin right where it is.” Lexa rolled her eyes and Clarke smirked and then looked around. “The same goes for the well-being of my other two children,” she said. “What are they up to?”  
  
“They were bored so I suggested they go play air hockey with Derrik. Luna is with them also,” the brunette informed her, gesturing down the hall and Clarke nodded, apparently approving. “Sounds good.” Lexa felt her squeeze her hand for a second and then continue, “I'm gonna go check on Sky, then I'll check in with the two of them.”  
  
“You should also eat something, Clarke,” Lexa told her, giving her a look. “When was the last time you did?” The blonde shot her a half-smile before telling her, “I don't really know, honestly. A while ago.” Lexa looked unimpressed and the other woman's smile grew a little. “I will get you a plate while you check on our children,” the brunette said. Clarke's fingers squeezed against her own again before they broke away, Clarke to go check on the children and Lexa to fill a plate for her as she'd promised.  
  
“Mummy!” Skylar exclaimed when she noticed her mother walking towards them, and Micha looked up as well to find one of the woman's eyebrows ticked up, an amused smile on her face.  
  
“Micha, I thought you were told to be careful with my daughter,” she joked, reaching down and lifting Skylar up when she reached up towards her. The one-time Army man just returned her smile with a smirk of his own, leaning back further in his chair as he replied, “Of course we were being careful, weren't we Sky? We were just having a bit of fun.”  
  
“Mowe fun!” Skylar agreed, little lips pulled up into a happy smile. Clarke shook her head but couldn't stop grinning, even as she placed Skylar right back on Micha's lap after giving her just a quick hug. “Alright, more fun,” she gave in, but even as she did she gave the soldier a look. “But Lexa's right: anything happens to my baby and you won't be able to hide from me.” Micha's smirk grew as he flashed her a quick salute. “Ma'am yes ma'am!” He began rolling around again, this time at least keeping all his wheels on the ground, and Clarke watched them for a few seconds before turning around and making her way down the hall Lexa had gestured to earlier. She searched for a minute, not entirely familiar with this area and looking into a few different rooms before she heard playful shouting and grinned. Making her way to the room the noises were coming from, she leaned against the door frame for a second to watch the game.  
  
Derrik stood at one end of the air hockey table and her daughter stood at the other, each entirely focused on the game between them. The little disc flew along the table between them, clanging and crashing along the sides as they each tried to keep the other from getting a point. Luna and Calvin stood beside the table, both watching the game.  
  
“C'mon Tris, you can get him!” Luna cheered as the little girl's hand shot out, stopping the disc just in time from slipping into her goal. She shot it back towards Derrik's end, brow furrowed in concentration, and Clarke couldn't quite hold back her grin back seeing just how intensely her daughter was focused on the game. “C'mon c'mon c'mon,” Tris muttered, ignoring everyone else and watching the disc as Derrik's hand immediately jumped over to it and sent it flying back to her end. It ricocheted off the wall and over to the other, and then before Tris could quite react it slid right into her goal and she groaned loudly. Her opponent smirked a little, clearly amused as the machine turned off.  
  
“Sorry, Tris, but that's the game,” he said, and she glared up at him as she grabbed the disc and put it back on the table. “One more game!” she declared, a fiery look in her eyes Clarke would recognize anywhere. Of her three children, Tris was by far the most competitive and would work at something until she'd finally won or at least got whatever move she was trying to do right. If she didn't know better the blonde would have thought Octavia might actually be her mother, the similarity between them hard to miss.  
  
As Clarke was lost in her thoughts, Calvin rolled his eyes. “Come on Tris, that's the third game you lost. Just admit you can't beat him.” His sister shot him a glare and he let out a sigh even as she growled, “I can too beat him! Just watch me.” Luna and Derrik both fought to control their grins, and as she did Luna looked up, noticing the blonde in the doorway.  
  
“Clarke,” she greeted, giving the other woman a friendly nod. “Glad you made it.”  
  
“Me too,” the mother replied as she stepped into the room, her children both turning to her. She glanced between them both, fighting to control her own grin, and asked, “You guys having fun?”  
  
“I'm gonna beat him,” Tris declared as she met her mother's eyes, and the blonde saw Calvin roll his eyes again. “No you're not,” he muttered which only made his sister glare at him again.  
  
“Tris, Derrik might not want to play another game,” Clarke informed her as she walked over to her. She let her arm lightly drape over her daughter's shoulders, glancing up at the other end of the air hockey table to grin at the man still standing there. “You have to ask him if he wants to play again, not just assume.” Her daughter let out a loud sigh, as though she'd just been asked to complete some trying task, but looked over at him and asked, “Derrik will you play another game with me so I can beat you?”  
  
“That's not exactly what I meant,” Clarke muttered but the ex-soldier shook his head, still smiling. “Sure Tris, I'll play another game with you, but I'm still not gonna go easy on you.” Tris's eyes narrowed and he turned the machine back on, the table whirring back to life.  
  
Clarke watched the game for a minute and then excused herself to return to the main room, and when she did Calvin followed her, clearly tired of watching his sister lose. His mother flashed him a little smile as her hand fell to his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, and then the two broke apart, him to go sit in the free chair he found at the edge of the room and her to make her way over to his other mother. He watched his Ma turn to her as she approached and saw the little smile the two shared as the brunette handed over the plate she held, his Mum nodding to her in thanks. She ate some before a few people dragged her into a conversation and then a moment later another group dragged his Ma into another one, and Calvin just observed, the idea he'd had the day before returning and growing. The blonde smiled as people talked to her, forgetting about her food as she nodded or laughed, happily letting herself get drawn into the conversations. The brunette was more quiet in her group, listening more than contributing, but Calvin could easily see the people around her had her focus. Even so he watched as she periodically scanned the room, a habit of hers he'd picked up on only months after moving in with them, and when she did she met his eyes and flashed him a little smile. He always returned it with his own but he barely even noticed, his thoughts too busy tumbling around in his head as he watched his mothers, his paper at the forefront of his mind as he watched its subjects interact with the people around them. As he watched the interactions more ideas continued to come to him, and he just sat there trying to filter through it all as his paper practically wrote itself in his mind. As weird as it was, he couldn't wait to get home so he could start writing.

***

In retrospect, suggesting the air hockey game probably hadn't been one of her best ideas. Lexa made sure to look nowhere but at the road as she drove her family home from the center, feeling her wife's looks on her every time Tris tried to argue from the backseat why she now needed an air hockey table so she could practice and be ready for the next time she challenged Derrik to a tournament. With every argument their oldest daughter tried to make she could feel those looks getting more pointed. Soon she turned the radio on, hoping the music would not only drown out Tris's constant reasoning that actually did seem fairly sound to Lexa, but also lull her tired wife to sleep. It didn't work, and the brunette began trying to think of ways to bribe Clarke later that night to forget about all of this, knowing that otherwise the night might not go quite as well for her as she'd been hoping it would.  
  
While his sister tried to convince their mothers to get her an air hockey table and they both remained quiet after the first few “No Tris, we're not getting an air hockey table”s, Calvin thought about his assignment, trying to plan out all the thoughts swirling around in his head. Now that he had an idea what he wanted to write, he just had to plan it and actually get it on the paper. It was harder than one of his pictures, but even so he could practically see the story, and for once he actually felt excited about doing homework. Professor-X was cool, but he had his own pair of superheroes to write about. 

***

**_Grounders_**

_By Calvin Griffin-Woods_

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_Superhero name: Heda_  
_Real name: Lexa Woods_  
_Powers: Invinsibility_

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_She was found when she was just two. A group of marines found her when they raded an enemies science lab. She was alone. They took her to there base and soon saw she couldn't be hurt. She cut herself with a nife (they weren't paying good attention to her) and she was bleeding black blood but then the wound healed really quick and she didn't even cry. They were gonna send her to an orphanage but instead they kept her. Lexa grew up with the marines and learned all about fighting and war. There were a couple soldiers who took care of her, but the best one was Ryder, one of the soldiers who first found her. He was really close and protectiv of her and when she got older was part of her unit. Because she grew up in the marines she was a soldier and started fighting for her goverment when she was really young. When she was eighteen the general made her commander and gave her her own unit. She was really tough, so instead they called her “Heda” (Ryder chose it). For a couple years she fought with and for her people. She was happy because it was all she ever knew._

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_Superhero name: ~~Wonheda~~ Wanheda_  
_Real name: Clarke Griffin_  
_Powers: Mind reading_

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_She doesn't have powers at first. For most of her life she's just like everyone. Her dad died when she was 10, so she decided she wanted to be a docter so she did. A year after World War III starts she and her two best friends decide to join the war. She goes as a doctor, her friend Octavia is a soldier and Raven is a mechanic. There unit is in one place, but after another year they get transferred to Polis, which is where they meet Lexa and her unit of Grounders (that's what the unit is called). The soldiers at Polis are in charge of getting children out of destroyed citys, but after a while Clarke gets suspishus. She ends up finding out they haven't been sending the children they rescue to safety, but the leaders of the base have been taking them and hiding them. They are experimenting on them because they want to make more kids like Lexa was. Clarke tries to save them, but gets ingected with a seerum and then she can read minds._

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_When Lexa first sees Clarke, she dosn't know what to do. She likes her as soon as she sees her, witch she dosn't understand. She's lived in the military all her life and never felt that way before. Clarke gets asigned to the Grounder unit (with Octavia and Raven) as there medic, so the two get to spend time together. Clarke makes Lexa smile witch she doesn't do a lot, and for some reason Lexa makes Clarke laugh. She's never met anyone like Lexa before, and not just cause she heals really fast. Lexa is quiet and serious and tough and her people love her, but Clarke sees more then just the soldier. She sees Lexa as a person and that's who she always talks to when there alone. Lexa is a soldier with everyone else but for some reason she's different with Clarke. It scares her a little, but in a good way._  
  
_One day they get a mission to save some kids from a village thats been raded. The fighters go in and Clarke follows and they find 8 kids, the youngest whos only three. They save the kids and take them back to the base, and the General Titus tells them the kids are gonna be sent away to a safe orphanage. Lexa and her people believe him, but one night when Clarke is in the medic's tent she overhears Titus talking to one of the other leaders about the kids and becomes suspishus. She starts to look around when nobodys paying attention. She finds a secret lab a couple miles away from the base and finds the kids there. They are being held in little white rooms and there's more than just the 8 they just saved. She counts and finds 48 kids and knows she can't rescue them all by herself. The kids are all laying in there beds and have tubes sticking out of them with some kind of clear liquid in them. She leaves them, knowing she has to come back to save them._  
  
_Clarke doesn't know who she can trust. She wants to tell Lexa about them but is afraid she knows and is part of it. She ends up getting Octavia and Raven (cause she knows she can trust them) and tells them what she saw. At first they don't believe her, but soon they do and they all know they have to do something and hate they were ever part of this base. They make a plan to sneak into the secret lab at night to save the kids. With Octavia's fighting skills, Raven's mechanic skills and Clarke's doctor skills, they think they can do it. That night they go back and sneak inside, and Clarke gets them in with out getting caught. They go to all the rooms and Raven breaks into them and the kids follow them, happy to be free again. But before they can leave, they are caught._  
  
_General Titus finds them with all the kids. He has some other soldiers with him, and they all point there guns at Clarke and her friends and the kids, but General Titus tells them not to shoot cause they can't hurt the kids. The soldiers take Clarke and Raven and Octavia's weapons away. The kids are all scared but they can't get away now, even though Clarke is still trying to protect them. She tells Titus and his solders it isn't right what they are doing, how they shouldn't be hurting the kids like that but Titus won't listen._  
  
_Lexa and the Grounders show up and Lexa's serprised when she sees Clarke and the other two with all the kids and Titus and his people pointing guns at them. Clarke is afraid again that Lexa maybe already knows what happened and what Titus has been doing, but she doesn't. She asks, “What's going on?” and Titus tells her how he's been trying to make more kids like her. He wants her to know how they would be un-stopable if they had an army of Lexas, and she doesn't know what to think. He is her commanding officer and she's always looked up to him, but this makes her uncomfortable. She doesn't really remember how she got this way, but sometimes she remembers hurting and being really scared, and she can see that same fear on the faces of the kids trying to hide behind Clarke. Titus orders her to help him and his people get the kids back though, and she's never not done what he says before. Before she can make a choice though Clarke moves._  
  
_One of the other soldiers moves to the kids but Clarke stops him. Even though she's a medic, she knows how to fight, and even though they took her gun she gets in his way. They fight, some of the other soldiers still pointing their guns at her but not shooting. They nock into a metal tray with needles on it and the soldier grabs one with black stuff in it and sticks it in Clarke's neck. The seringe had a mixture of Lexa's blood and other stuff in it and it was supposed to go to one of the kids but now its in Clarke. She stops fighting and falls, shaking as the mixture goes into her blood. Titus is mad the soldier did that but he watches to see what would happen. It was the first dose they created and he doesn't know what it will do._  
  
_When Clarke stops shaking, her head really hurts. She's got a really really bad headache and she suddenly hears lots of voices in her head. She doesn't know whats happening but then one of the voices sounds like Titus and she hears, “I won't let them get away. We will find new kids if we have to.” Her eyes widen because she knows he's gonna kill them all and she jumps up before he's even lifting his gun and she throws herself in front of the kids to try to shield them._  
  
_Lexa sees Clarke jump in front of the kids just as Titus raises his gun and knows whats gonna happen. Without thinking about it she moves, running between the general and Clarke just as he pulls the trigger. The loud BANG goes off and she feels the bullet hit her stomach and then it falls to the floor. She can feel it but only a little, the pain bearly there. She bleeds for a minute and then heals like usual and just ignroes it. Titus and the rest of the soldiers are staring at her really surprised._  
  
_“Commander,” Titus says, glaring at her. “What are you doing?” Lexa doesn't really know, she's never gone against orders before, but she knows this is the right thing even though it hurts to look at the man who was almost like a father to her. But sometimes fathers are wrong, and she knows this is one of those times._  
  
_“I'm sorry General,” she says to him. “I can't do this. I wont let you do this.” He's mad. She can see it but she doesn't back down._  
  
_Somehow Clarke can hear everyone's thoughts, knows what there all thinking so she hears Titus's next thought before he can do anything. “Lexa, he's gonna shoot again and attack!” she yells, wanting to run to Lexa and help but afraid to leave the kids. He does that, fires twice to try to distract her and then jumps at Lexa but the warning has Lexa ready and she's moving even as the bullets pretty much bounce off her. She and Titus fight, her general attacking her while she defends and tries to get his gun away before he can try to hurt anyone else._  
  
_“Soldiers get them!” Titus yells and the soldiers who were with him move to do what he said but suddenly the Grounders are all behind them their guns pressed to there heads. Titus is furious and says, “You follow my orders!”_  
  
_“No,” Ryder tells him as he looks at the general Lexa now has in a headlock. “We follow Heda's orders.” As one the Grounders all look to their leader and Lexa feels pride grow inside her glad she still has them with her. She and her people put Titus and his soldiers in the rooms they had the kids locked up in while Clarke and Octavia and Raven make sure the kids are okay. When she and the Grounders come back she sees Clarke sitting with her head in her hands, looking sick and knows its because of whatever was in that needle. Clarke doesn't want to talk about it though and as soon as they get back they come up with a plan to sneak out of camp. They have to be careful because they don't know who else is involved with Titus's plan but Raven takes them to some trucks she was working on and they get the kids in them and leave without anyone else seeing them. Clarke and Lexa end up in the same truck, riding in the back with some of the kids. The kids all fall asleep pretty quick and Lexa thinks maybe Clarke did to cause her eyes are closed but she can't. Her mind is racing thinking about how she just went against her orders and basically desserted her base._  
  
_“You did the right thing,” she suddenly hears and looks over to Clarke. The other woman still has her eyes closed but aparently isn't sleeping._  
  
_“I didn't say I didn't,” Lexa tells her._  
  
_“Yeah but you're thinking it,” Clarke says, and Lexa frowns._  
  
_“How do you know what I'm thinking?” she wants to know, a little angry. She doesn't really know what just happened and can't even really tell what she's thinking so she doesn't see how Clarke could know. The other woman opens her eyes though and looks at Lexa, and the Commander thinks she sees a little bit of fear in them._  
  
_“I can hear you,” she says really quiet. “What you're thinking. I can hear it. I can hear what everyones thinking.”_  
  
_Lexa frowns, thinking she's gone crazy because no one can read other peoples minds, but then she has an idea and her eyes widen. She takes the knife from her belt and reaches out and Clarke gives her her hand without hesitating as though she allready knows what Lexa's gonna do. Very carefully she presses the tip of her blade to Clarke's finger and they watch as a little drop of black blood drips out. They meet each others eyes as the drop of blood rolls down Clarke's finger knowing everythings changed now. They can't just be soldiers now. They just saved a bunch of kids from being experimented on and because of it now they both bleed black and they can't go back. With there people with them all they can do is run and try to find somewhere safe. Lexa doesn't need to read Clarke's mind to to know they're both thinking the same thing:_  
  
_It's only the beginning._

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_THE END_

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***

__

_Three Years Later_

  


**_Heroes_**

_By Tris Griffin-Woods_

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_I have a cuple heroes. I realy like hockey, so 1 of my heroes is Joe Thornton from the San Jose Sharks cuz thats my favorit team. Hes a center like me I like waching his games. Me and my friend Jonas wach them all the time._  
  
_I like Joe Thornton but hes not the hero most importent to me._  
  
_My best heroes are my moms. They adopted me and my sister more then 4 ~~yers~~ years ago. I didnt like them much for a long time becuz I was mad but they loved me rite a way. when I thru things or yelled they didnt care and loved me anyway._  
  
_My mum is a docter. Shes a sergin and saves peoples lifes. She has to spend lots of time at the hospital cuz of it but when she gets home she wants to spend all her time with me and my sister and brother its kind of ~~anoy~~ annoying some times but I like it even when I pretned I dont. We make dinner together nights when shes home just her and me cuz my other mom cant cook she almost burned the house down once. We all like to pick on her for that. Mum likes to read bed time storys to my sister Skylar and sometimes I lisen cuz she has a pretty voice.She's always happy even after spending a long time at work and she always says its cuz she gets to come home to us. I think thats kinda cheesey but I know its true cuz theres nothing in the world she loves more than us._  
  
_My ma used to be a lot of things. She was a ~~merine~~ marine for a long time a long time ago and then she was a police detectiv. When me and Sky were adopted she stopped being a detectiv to take care of us and my brother Calvin. I think she liked being a detectiv but loved us more even though we were new. She used to go to ~~treekru~~ trikru va center alot and then she started working there some times she helps other soldiers get used to sivilian life again and helps them deal with any inguries they might have got when they were fighting. After she desided to do that she started taking classes online to get a degre in sycology to help even more and I think thats crazy when Im done with school Im never going back. Even thogh she helps out at the va she still always makes sure shes there for us all the time. We run together alot and she always comes to my hockey games even when mumma cant becuz shes working wich I know makes her sad but we always tell her about them. Ma is quiet but always tells us all how much she loves us and I know its true cuz I can see it in her eyes._  
  
_When Sky and I were adopted my moms made a picture for us. Ma found a qote quote and Mum turned it into the picture becuz shes an artist like my brother. Its a picture of a house and a little heart next to it wich is cheesey to but thats ok. The quote says fill a house with love and it becomes a home and thats why my moms are my heroes. They took me and my sister into this family when they didnt have to and they made it my home and I know it will always be my home becuz thats where my family is. They all love me and I love all of them._  
  
_But I dont want them to read this becuz its cheesy to._

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***

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_Four Years Later_

  


**_What is a Hero?_**

_By Skylar Griffin-Woods_

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_I've always known who my heroes are. It's not something I need to think about I just always knew. But since we started talking about whats a hero and how can someone be a hero, I started thinking about it more. Why is Superman a hero? What makes people love him so much? What really is a hero?_  
  
_The dictionary says a hero is:_  
  
_1\. A person noted for feats of courage or nobility of purpose, especially one who has risked or sacrificed his or her life._  
  
_2\. A person noted for special acheivement in a particular field._  
  
_If that's what a hero is, then I know a lot of them. My Mama works at Trikru VA Center, and I've been going there with her ever since I was real little and some of the soldiers there are some of my best friends. Luna Flouk was a Lieutenant in the Navy for four years and fought with her brother who died two months before he was supposed to go home. Now she hates even the idea of war, and tries to convinse people fighting will never solve our problems. When I see her at the VA she always smiles at me and we talk for a long time about anything. She's a really good listener. Derrick Woda was in the Coast Guard and lost one of his hands and now has a prosthetic, but he's still a really good air hockey player. I haven't been able to beat him ever (but I'm gonna!). Micha Adams was paralized when he was shot in the spine in the Army and has been in a wheelchair ever since, but he's always really happy and loves to tell me jokes (my Mama says some of them are in appropriate for me, but he tells them to me anyway when she's not listening. I like that cause it makes me feel older even if I don't always get them). And Ryder is quiet but strong and one of the nicest people I know, even if sometimes he can look a little scary (he isn't). He was in my Mama's unit and she saved his life when he stepped on an IED, but he still lost one of his legs from the explosion and now has a prosthetic but that doesn't stop him. He and my Mama work together with a few other people to run the VA, and I think he really loves being able to help soldiers who need it. They're all heroes._  
  
_My uncle Lincoln is a history teacher in the high school and my aunt Octavia is the counselor in the middle school. Maybe that's not special like being a soldier is, but I think there still heroes. They spend all their time helping kids learn and feel safe and that's really important. Last year my aunt Raven adopted Jason even though before she always joked about how her dogs (Rover and Boom) were the only kids she ever wanted. Jason's step dad hit him but after Raven met him and found out she and Mama and Mama's old partner Roan (from being a detective, not like a relationship partner that's just gross) got him away and then she adopted him. It was kinda wierd at first but now Jason's happy and so is Raven. She's a hero too because she saved him._  
  
_Cal is my big brother. He's a junior this year and started thinking about college already. I know he has to go, but I'm gonna miss him. He's really really calm so when my sister gets angry about something he can usually help, and he's ben teaching me how to draw. I'm not as good at it as he is, but he says I'm doing good. I think he just wants me to feel good abut my pictures, but I still like it when he says that. We're both adopted and he never had to treat me like a real sister, but he always did and that's why he's a hero too._  
  
_Two of my biggest heroes though are my moms, and its kind of funny cause those definitions are kinda exactly them. Mama was a Lieutenant in the Marines (remember, with Ryder?). She was in charge of the Grounder Unit and they did a lot of really cool things and saved a lot of people when the Reapers tried to invade towns and kidnap and kill people. She saved Ryder's life and then came home to my mom. They were in love for forever and got married really soon after she came home. When she was gone my Mumma went to school to be a doctor, and now she's a really great trauma surgeon which means she saves a lot of peoples lives too. She's been a doctor now for a really long time, and even though I know it makes her tired and sad when she can't save someone I don't think she's ever gonna stop cause she cares about people too much. And really that's why she and Mama are my heroes. Not because a their jobs or the people they've saved, but because how much they care. They both love people so much, and I know the people they love the most are me and my brother and sister. Neither of my moms actually gave birth to me, but they love me like they did. I've seen a lot of heroes and a lot of families but none of them are better then mine._  
  
_My first, biggest hero is the person who's always been my family. Sometimes she annoys me and I know sometimes I annoy her, but theres no one who will ever love or protect me as much as my big sister. Tris has always been there for me keeping me safe and making sure I'm happy for as long as I can remember. Even though I cant really remember it, before we found our home I know things were hard for Tris. She took care of me every day, and she still takes care of me (even though she doesn't have to and sometimes I wish she didn't). I know Tris better than I know anyone else and I know she knows me better than anyone. Tris has always been there to hold me when I'm sad and make me feel safe, she always tries to make me smile and helps me calm down when I get anxious. She takes care of me and always have even when she was still just a little girl she always put me first and I really love her for that. Out of everyone I know, Tris is the person who makes me feel safest and its cause I know how much she loves me. So yeah, I know a lot of heroes but she's my biggest hero._  
  
_The dictionary's definition is nice, but I don't think its really right. It's right, but I think theres more to being a hero than saving lives and doing amazing things. Actually I think Zeus is right. “A hero is not measured by the size of his strength but by the strength of his heart.” If that's what a hero is, then yeah, I know a lot of them. I call them my family._

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	14. Chapter Fourteen - Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet nobody was expecting another chapter so soon, but here it is! This is four months after Calvin's portion of the previous chapter.

_Four Months Later_

Skylar shrieked happily as Pauna's tongue ran quickly over her fingers, looking for any trace of peanut butter Lexa might have missed after cleaning her up from her snack. The mother grinned down at the two, just barely shaking her head as the dog took a step closer, bumping the toddler's chest with her head before tilting up and beginning to lick her cheeks. Again Skylar shrieked, turning her head away from the dog but reached forward, wrapping her little fingers in Pauna's fur.  
  
“PauPau no!” she exclaimed, though her attempts at keeping the dog away were minimal at best, and Lexa could see her fingers gripping the Boxer mix tightly. Pauna clearly also knew she didn't mean it and just continued licking her face, giving the toddler one doggy kiss right after another. Finally Lexa bent down, her hands sliding beneath the toddler's armpits, and hoisted her up, leaving Pauna looking up at them in what was clearly confusion. Obviously she didn't understand why her mother had just ruined her fun, and the brunette shook her head at the look.  
  
“That's enough cleaning up, Pauna, I think between the two of us we got it all,” she stated as Skylar's arms happily circled around her neck, and when she looked over she found her daughter beaming at her. Returning the smile with her own, she asked, “What do you think Sky? You wanna play with your blocks a little before nap time?”  
  
“Bocks!” she agreed as she threw up both arms and the mother let out a little chuckle. “Alright, sounds like that's a yes.” With Pauna trailing behind her, she carried Skylar from the kitchen to the living room, grabbing a little bin of colored blocks as she went by. Carefully she sat on the floor with her back against the couch and arranged the toddler in her lap before dumping the toys out of their bin, letting them fall into a messy pile on the floor. Apparently knowing it wasn't her kind of playtime, Pauna jumped up on the couch behind them, circling a few times before settling down, her head resting on her paws as she watched over her humans. Skylar was no longer paying any attention to the dog or her mother, busy looking over the many colored blocks in front of her.  
  
“Can you get all the red blocks?” Lexa asked, looking down at her youngest daughter, and the toddler gave a quick nod without even looking back. She scrambled off of her mother's lap, now fully focused on the toys, and began going through them, pulling out what she thought were the right ones and pushing the rest to the side. Lexa watched her calmly, happy to just sit back and relax. With Calvin and Tris in school and Clarke at work it would just be the two of them for a few more hours, which meant she could give her youngest daughter her full attention.  
  
“Bocks!” she exclaimed again when she'd finished, turning around and giving her mother a big smile. “Good job Sky!” Lexa told her, leaning forward to pull the girl back to her lap and dragging the pile of blocks closer. Glancing down at the pile, she let out a little laugh and grabbed one of them, this one clearly standing out from the rest. “Sky, what color is this?”  
  
“Wed!” the toddler said, reaching out for the block but Lexa held onto it even as her little fingers curled around one edge. Shaking her head as her smile grew, the mother insisted, “Silly girl, you know it's not red. What color is it?”  
  
“Owange!” she replied, and Lexa nodded as she pressed a sloppy kiss against the little girl's cheek. “That's right, it's orange. Good job! But we only wanted red blocks, remember?” Skylar nodded as though it were the most obvious thing in the world and Lexa lightly tossed the orange block back into the larger pile of multi-colored blocks. Settling the toddler between her legs, she reached out and spread the red blocks in front of them and asked, “How many red blocks do you think there are?”  
  
“Free,” she stated, her go-to number lately. Her third birthday was a week away which meant the number had been repeated around the house over and over and she'd gladly picked up on it. The brunette lifted an eyebrow, glancing at the pile in front of them. “I think maybe there's a few more than just three blocks. How about we count them?” Skylar nodded quickly and Lexa reached out, dragging the blocks closer one at a time. “One,” the mother said, her daughter repeating it just a second later, “Two...”  
  
“Free,” Skylar added in, grinning up at her mother, and Lexa grinned right back. “Very good! What comes next?”  
  
“Fibe!” she answered, leaning over and grabbing one of the blocks. The brunette shook her head and the toddler frowned. “Almost. Remember, it's one, two, three, _four_ , and then five. Let's try again.”  
  
The two started over, Lexa grabbing a new block for each number, and she watched Skylar eye each one as they counted along. It was mostly just Lexa counting, the toddler just repeating after her, but that was good enough for the mother. Skylar kept grabbing at the blocks, holding each up to show the brunette as though it were some great prize, and each time Lexa's smile just grew a little bigger. The little girl clearly didn't have much interest in the counting and would rather just lean against her mother as she played with her blocks, but even so Lexa continued the lesson even with an only mildly interested student. When she heard her phone begin to ring back in the kitchen where she'd left it on the counter, she finally gave up.  
  
“Alright, you win, no more counting,” she stated as she stood up, leaving Skylar on the floor with the toys. “You just play with your blocks and I'll be right back. Pauna, keep an eye on the baby.” The dog gave her a look as though she were offended she would think otherwise while Skylar just began pushing the blocks around, fully content to play. Lexa fought back a grin before she turned around and hurried out of the room. Her phone was on the fifth or sixth ring by the time she grabbed it, probably about to go to voicemail, so she answered it hurriedly without even really looking at the number. “Hello?” she said, leaning lightly against the island.  
  
“Captain Woods,” she heard, and immediately she straightened, her body responding to the voice on the other end as automatically as it had nearly seven years ago. Her shoulders snapped back, her spine straightened and her head lifted up, the smile that had been on her lips only a second ago entirely disappearing.  
  
“Cap... Major Rivo,” she stated, recognizing that voice anywhere, even over the phone after so many years. “What is it?” She hadn't spoken to her commanding officer ever since she left the Marines; whatever this was, she knew it couldn't be good. Her heartbeat picked up in her chest, suddenly worried.  
  
“I wanted you to hear this from me and not the news...”  
  
Just like that, her heart sank. 

***

_Two Days Later_

The first thing Clarke did as she stepped off of the plane and into the terminal was check her phone, afraid she might have a few messages. They'd never both left before, and no matter how many times her mother had tried to reassure her their kids would be fine with her for a couple of days, she couldn't let that worry go. With the device back on and unlocked she went through it quickly, finding she didn't have any missed calls or texts, and could breathe just a little bit easier. Looking up again that breath got caught in her chest, a pain shooting through it at the sight of her wife. Lexa stood in her dress blues, her posture stiff and expression stoic, and the sight just made Clarke's heart ache. Ryder moved up beside her, also dressed in his blues, looking just as stiff and formal as her wife. They still had a little bit of time before the funeral, certainly enough to check into the hotel, but both soldiers had chosen to wear their uniforms rather than try to pack them. Seeing them, a lump formed in the back of the blonde's throat but she quickly swallowed it back down, forcing both it and the pain in her chest back for the time being. Slipping her phone back into her jacket pocket, she stepped up to them.  
  
“Come on,” she said, reaching over and lightly touching Lexa's arm. “Let's go get our bags and then check into the hotel. Rivo is meeting us there.” Without saying a word the brunette nodded, that guarded look Clarke hadn't seen in years once again staring back at her, and she had to swallow again and try not to focus on it.  
  
The three made their way around the airport, grabbing their luggage and then getting into the car they'd already arranged to have pick them up. The ride to the hotel was silent, Ryder and Lexa on either side of her each just staring out the window while Clarke sat between them, not knowing what to say. Luckily their hotel was only about twenty minutes away, and soon Clarke was checking them all in, the woman behind the reception desk glancing back and forth at the two soldiers behind her the entire time. The elevator ride up to the third floor where their rooms were was just as quiet as the car ride had been, and the blonde had to fight with herself to keep from fidgeting .  
  
“Rivo should be here in about forty-five minutes,” she stated as they stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway. Looking over at Ryder, she continued, “We'll meet you down in the lobby then?” He nodded, all the response he seemed willing to give, and then made his way down the hall, looking for his room. Clarke glanced at Lexa out of the corner of her eye but her wife didn't look back, instead just grabbing their luggage and stepping forward also. The blonde followed her to their room, using her key card to let them in, and then still without a word she began to get ready, going through the luggage to take out everything she would need.  
  
In the bathroom and now wearing her black dress, Clarke stared at her reflection. She hadn't worn this dress since her father's death, and decided it was fitting that it was now just her funeral attire. Her hair fell over her shoulders in soft curls, and any other day she would take just a second to appreciate the look, mostly just because she knew how much Lexa loved her hair. Now all she could do was stare, not entirely sure she recognized the person in the mirror. Past the eyeliner and mascara currently painted around her eyes she could see a sense a dread, almost fear fighting to the surface in an ocean of blue, the same dread she'd felt growing in her gut every since Lexa had told her about Rivo's call. She pushed past it, forced it back until it no longer showed and was wrapped up tightly in a ball in her gut, and just prayed she could continue to hold it back. Taking a deep breath as she gave herself one last look in the mirror, she turned, leaving her makeup bag behind, and made her way out of the bathroom.  
  
Their hotel room wasn't huge, but it was nice, cozy even. Despite its simplicity it was comfortable, the bed pressed up against one wall large and covered in what would undoubtedly be a wonderful comforter when they would finally be able to use it and more pillows than they would ever need for just the two of them. Despite its softness, it wasn't the bed where she found Lexa when she exited the bathroom, but instead standing in front of the sliding glass doors that led to a tiny balcony on the opposite side of the room. Her wife just stood there, staring out them, and Clarke had to bite her lip as another lump made its way up the back of her throat. Quietly she made her way across the room until she was standing beside the brunette and then she reached out, lightly taking her hand.  
  
“Hey,” she said softly, her grip on Lexa's hand tightening, and a second later the other woman looked over at her, that look still in her eyes. “I'm here, Lexa,” she told her, her voice still soft. Gripping her hand again, she continued, “I'm right here.” The brunette stared at her for a second and Clarke made sure not to look away, letting her wife see the truth of her words. A moment later she felt a little pressure against her hand, Lexa's way of returning her grip, and then she nodded. She still didn't say anything but it was enough for the blonde, at least for the moment. “Come on,” she said, tugging lightly on her hand. “Let's go wait for Rivo and Ryder.”  
  
After slipping her heels on, she led them back out of the room, grabbing her jacket on the way and making sure her phone and wallet were safely tucked into its pockets. As she passed the bureau Lexa grabbed the key card from where Clarke had dropped it on their arrival, and handed it over to the blonde. Clarke flashed her a little smile, one Lexa just barely returned, and then slipped it into her wallet as the two made their way down the hall and back to the elevator.  
  
They had only been waiting in the lobby for a few minutes when Lexa suddenly stood a little straighter, her focus honing in on someone walking towards them. Clarke turned around and wasn't at all surprised to see Rivo approaching them, the Major also dressed in his own blues. The look in his eyes was hard though not as hard as her wife's, and there was a sadness pulling at his expression Clarke knew Lexa couldn't ever let into her own, not when others might see it. He stopped in front of them and held out his hand, shaking first Lexa's and then her own.  
  
“Captain Woods, Clarke,” he said, looking from one woman to the other. “It's good to see you again, though I wish it were under different circumstances.”  
  
“It's good to see you again too, Rivo,” Clarke replied, gripping his hand just as tightly as he gripped her own. “Though you're right, I wish it were for a different reason.”  
  
“Major,” Lexa just greeted with a nod, perfectly fine with letting her wife do the talking. Whenever the man looked at her she felt as though he were reading everything she felt, that knowing look in his eyes she remembered all too well from when she served under him, and she didn't like it now anymore than she had then.  
  
“Ryder should be down any time,” Clarke stated, thankfully pulling his attention off of Lexa and back to her. “We just got here a little while ago, I'm sure he's just finishing getting ready.”  
  
“Of course,” Rivo replied with a nod, “We still have plenty of time. How was your flight?”  
  
While Rivo and Clarke made small talk, Lexa stayed quiet, just watching the two. Everything about this moment felt strange, almost surreal, from her commanding officer standing in front of her to the uniform on her back. The dress blues felt heavy, weighed down her shoulders, making it almost impossible to stand up tall. For years now they had been tucked safely in the back of her closet, pushed out of sight and mind, and now standing in them again felt almost as unreal as the reason behind them. She just couldn't believe she was here, hundreds of miles away from her home and dressed up to go to the funeral of one of the men from her old unit. The thought of it made her throat burn before she forced it down, forced the pain she felt back behind the iron door she had so often locked it behind during her days of service. It hadn't been until Clarke was once again a part of her life that she'd learned she didn't always need that iron door, but in this moment even with the blonde beside her she didn't know how else to be.  
  
Slightly uneven steps moved up behind them and they all turned, finding Ryder approaching them. Clarke tried to flash him a little smile and he just nodded, eyes going over her and Lexa quickly until they stopped on the other man. He didn't waver when the other soldier looked over at him, just held his head a little higher, saying, “Major Rivo.”  
  
“Lance Corporal Black,” the Major replied, nodding to him and offering his hand. Ryder shook it as he returned the nod. “It's good to see you again, despite the circumstances.”  
  
“You as well,” Ryder said as he let their hands drop. He nodded to the door of the lobby, saying, “We should probably be going.” Rivo nodded, his lips pulling together in a thin line and beside her Clarke saw Lexa somehow straighten even more and her fingers itched to reach out to her. Something about the way the brunette held herself told her not to, that as much as it might be needed the touch wouldn't be welcome at this moment so she held back, gripping her dress lightly to keep her hands at her side. Rivo turned and led the way out of the hotel and into the parking lot and the four of them piled into the car he led them too. Once again the car ride remained silent, and Clarke kept a tight grip on the fabric of her dress to keep herself from reaching over to her wife.  
  
The ride to the cemetery took just over a half hour, and by the time they got there a number of other people had already arrived, some in civilian clothes and more in their own dress blues. Clarke followed the other three as they got out of the car and made their way over to where everyone was gathering, the lump in her throat growing with every step she took. As she went she felt a shiver run down her spine caused by more than just the chill in the air and held her coat more firmly around her even as she pressed a little closer to her wife. Lexa remained beside her, her back uncomfortably straight, and the closer they got to the grave site the harder her expression became. A few people had already taken their seats and Clarke was about to lead them to a few empty ones when Lexa suddenly stopped in her tracks. Rivo continued on without them but Clarke and Ryder both stopped as well, and after a second the blonde saw who had caught her wife's attention. Quint seemed to notice them at the same time the blonde noticed him, and the man stood up from his chair, his mouth turned down in a deep frown.  
  
“Heda,” he said as he walked over, nodding to her respectfully, and Lexa returned the nod. He turned to Clarke next, saying, “Wanheda.” Looking at Ryder last, he finished the greeting. “Ryder.”  
  
“Quint,” Ryder replied, stepping forward and reaching out, and they grabbed each other's arms, gripping the forearm tightly. “How have you been?”  
  
“Good, till now,” he answered before he released his hold and they both dropped their arms. “Been a civilian for a few years. Still feels strange sometimes. What about you?”  
  
“Also good,” Ryder said. “I work at a VA center, so it doesn't always feel like I'm a civilian, but I know what you mean.” One corner of Quint's mouth pulled up just a hair and he nodded before turning to the two women. “How've you two been?”  
  
Lexa remained silent so a second later Clarke answered for them, telling him, “We've been good. Busy. We have three kids, so they keep us moving.” That made him let out a little chuckle, glancing over at the woman whose life he had made hell for a couple of years until she'd managed to win his respect. Now even years later he felt the need to stand tall in front of her, not wanting to show her anything but his best. “I bet they give you even more trouble than we used to.”  
  
“Speak for yourself, Quint,” they heard someone say, and Clarke looked past the big man to see Echo approaching them, an eyebrow raised at her former comrade. She stopped next to him, and that eyebrow lifted further as she continued, “You're the only one who went out of their way to cause trouble.” Quint's half grin grew and he shrugged, silently admitting she was right.  
  
“Echo,” Ryder said, reaching out to her, and then they were clasping forearms just like he had with the other ex-Grounder. “It's good to see you.”  
  
“You too,” she replied before glancing over the entire group and adding, “All of you.”  
  
“We should sit,” Lexa stated, barely looking at her people to instead look past them where everyone was gathering. More and more people were gathering around the grave with every second, and it was clear the ceremony was about to start. Nobody even tried to argue with her, the one-time soldiers all falling in line with her as though no time had gone by while her wife remained beside her, still itching to reach out to her but holding herself back. The group moved over to the folding chairs where they found two more familiar faces, Shet's eyes already red-rimmed and cheeks damp from the few tears that had managed to fall and Artigas beside him, his hand on his comrade's shoulder. The group filled in the seats around the two and as Clarke passed them she leaned down, wrapping her arms around Shet's shoulders in a long hug. He returned it immediately, holding her tightly for a few seconds before letting go and when she pulled back and studied him, clearly worried, he just gave her a nod. She returned it before moving on and taking her own seat beside Lexa, and this time she didn't stop herself from reaching out and taking her wife's hand. Despite her worries the brunette accepted it, her fingers slipping through Clarke's, and when the blonde felt her squeeze briefly she looked up, following Lexa's line of sight. The lump in her throat grew ever bigger when she found what her wife was looking at, and she felt a tear slide down her cheek when she saw Tristan's half-smirk grinning at them from the enlarged picture just beside the grave. In it he was also dressed in his blues, but something about it felt stiff, unnatural, and she wondered if he'd even wanted to sit still long enough to take it. She'd never know.  
  
The ceremony started and Clarke rose as everyone else did, watching as a large coffin was carried to the site by six soldiers all dressed up and staring straight ahead. Taps began sounding as they neared the grave and another tear fell down the blonde's cheek. They stood in the third row but she could still clearly see everything as it happened, saw it as the coffin was lightly placed on the straps over the grave and an American flag was held above it. She watched as the flag was ceremoniously folded and her hands began to tremble. Lexa stood completely still beside her almost as though she were a statue but she still held Clarke's hand, and now the blonde knew it was she who needed the support. As they finished folding the flag the one holding it turned around and presented it to a woman in the front row with white hair and tears freely running down her cheeks and somehow Clarke just knew this had to be Tristan's mother. She took the flag and held it tightly to her chest, gripping it for dear life and Clarke's heart broke knowing it wasn't what she wanted to be holding in that moment. Her grip on Lexa's hand tightened, probably so tightly she was cutting off the blood flow but she couldn't help it. This could have been them seven years ago; it could have been Lexa's funeral and she could have been the one having to accept a flag when all she wanted was her love back, and that thought caused the bile to race up the back of her throat, the taste of fear coating her tongue. She remained quiet and did nothing but observe as the ceremony continued but inside her heart raced, a fear she knew she would never be entirely rid of filling her skin.  
  
The sun had begun to set by the time the service ended and the temperature had dropped even further, enough that Clarke couldn't quite keep from shivering. As people began to disperse, some leaving and others going to give their condolences to the grieving mother, she couldn't quite be sure whether her shivering was entirely caused by the low temperature or the grief around her. Lexa must have noticed because she pushed a little closer, offering the blonde more contact than she had all day as their legs pressed together and one arm moved over her shoulders. She sunk into the hold for a second, closing her eyes and taking in Lexa's scent, letting herself get lost in it for just a moment. A few minutes later she felt the brunette shift before she pressed a light kiss to Clarke's hair.  
  
“I'll be right back,” she murmured against blonde waves, and Clarke looked up to see her green eyes locked on Tristan's mother. The crowd around her had thinned out a bit, fewer people left now to speak with her, so Lexa stood and Clarke stayed there, watching her as she walked away.  
  
Approaching the mother, Lexa had to fight an internal battle to keep her emotions under control. At her sides her hands clenched into tight fists so she could control their trembling and she just hoped she would somehow be able to get her next few words out without her voice breaking. Her throat burned with her unshed tears and she could feel that burning growing inside her no matter how hard she forced it back. Even so she ignored it, making sure her expression was as clear as she could get it as a couple of people stepped away from the grieving woman and she took their place. Tristan's mother turned to her, eyes red and blood-shot, and she had to push away her own grief when she met them.  
  
“Mrs. Gona,” she said as she reached out her hand. “My name is Alexandria Griffin-Woods. I was your son's commanding officer in the Grounder unit a few years ago.”  
  
“Captain Woods, of course,” the woman stated, taking her hand and holding it firmly. Lexa watched her throat work for a second, fresh tears gathering in her eyes but not falling before she added, “My, my son told me a lot about you. He respected you very much.”  
  
“I respected him very much as well,” she told her, still fighting against the burning in her throat. “Tristan was one of my best; he was a wonderful soldier, and a better person.”  
  
The fresh tears began to fall at that, but even so the woman gave her a shaky smile. “Being a soldier was all he knew,” she said quietly, pain lacing her voice and striking Lexa's chest like a bullet. “He just couldn't turn it off. He came home for a year and a half but just didn't... Just didn't know how to be a civilian anymore. He knew I didn't want him to go back but nothing... Nothing I could say could stop him.” She shook her head, eyes closing, and when they opened again it was so she could stare at the picture still up beside the grave. Lexa saw her look into Tristan's eyes and nearly had to lean forward to hear her when she murmured brokenly, “We might have just buried him, but I lost my son to this fight a long time ago.”  
  
Lexa didn't know what to say to that so she just stood there for a moment, her heart breaking in her chest. The mother stared at the picture for another few seconds and then looked back at her, tried to give her a little smile and failed, and then nodded her thanks before she stepped away and a few others intercepted her to share their own grief. The captain couldn't quite move, didn't really know what to do other than stare at the picture of her fallen comrade until she hear someone move over to her and then felt a hand slip into her own. Despite the fact she immediately knew who it was she looked down at the hand before trailing it back up and meeting Clarke's eyes. She could feel her wife studying her, noticed those blue eyes scan over her face a few times, but she didn't say anything about whatever she found there.  
  
“Come on,” Clarke just said instead, lightly tugging on her hand. “It's getting late; your unit wants us to go get dinner and some drinks with them. Quint says Tristan would want you to use this time to catch up.” Despite the fact she wasn't in the least bit hungry Lexa nodded and let Clarke pull her back over to where her old unit and Rivo waited for them. After they'd all agreed where to go they split up, Lexa still letting Clarke lead her and following behind.  
  
A few hours later they were all sitting around a long table, their stomachs full of appetizers and beer, none of them having an appetite for a full meal. As Lexa sipped on her third beer she felt the warm buzzing of the alcohol begin fizzing beneath her skin and sank into it, more than happy to let it take over. It was far from a happy buzz, her pain still ever-present in her chest, but even so she let it wash over her, hoping it would at least cloud her senses enough to take the edge off. She listened to the conversation around her without adding much herself as her old unit took turns telling stories about their fallen comrade.  
  
“He knocked you on your fucking ass,” Shet was busy saying, a large grin going from ear to ear as he pointed a finger at Quint. “Thought you had him that time so you got cocky and then Tristan laid you the fuck out.”  
  
“When wasn't Quint getting cocky?” Artigas wanted to know, sharing the other man's grin before he took a long swig of his beer. Quint's hand suddenly made contact with the back of his head, the hit light but enough for him to nearly spill his drink, the beverage dangerously swaying in its glass. As the younger man shot him a glare the larger soldier cocked an eyebrow at him, reminding him, “Watch it kid, remember who your superior officer was.” Artigas hooked his thumb towards Lexa, saying, “She was. When Heda's around she's the superior officer. And knock it off with the 'kid' comments already, I'm almost thirty!”  
  
“She's the superior officer, huh?” Rivo asked, also lifting an eyebrow, maintaining a controlled expression as the young man nearly blanched, realizing what he'd said. “Uh, no Major, not your superior, obviously. Just, you know, ours.” He pointed around the table weakly as the rest of the ex-Grounders grinned at him, Echo even going so far as to shake her head.  
  
“You always did find a way to put your foot in your mouth,” she muttered and now it was her his glare turned to, but like Quint she barely even acknowledged it.  
  
“You three might be the superior officers, but I think we all know who the most terrifying person at this table is,” Shet contributed, looking at them all before stopping on Clarke. One corner of his mouth tugging further up, he added, “I'd seen Heda go up against Reapers, assholes, hell even face bombs, but I never saw her more terrified than when you walked into Ryder's hospital room that day. I'm pretty sure we all nearly pissed ourselves by the time you left.”  
  
“It's wise to always stay on her good side,” Lexa joked, the first time she'd added to the conversation in a while, and beside her Clarke playfully elbowed her, her lips curling into a little grin. “Walking around with broken ribs after getting blown up definitely wasn't the way to do that,” she muttered, giving her wife a look that the brunette just shrugged at. Even years later Clarke still knew the only thing she regretted about that trip through the hospital was getting caught. Letting that memory slip away, she looked back over to Shet, giving him a look before saying, “But anyway, you must know by now it's always better to stay on your wife's good side. Didn't you get married a couple of years ago?”  
  
“Married and divorced all in the same year,” he replied with a laugh, holding up his drink as though in a toast. “Guess that's a lesson I didn't learn too well.” He gave her a wink and then took a long drink from his glass, downing the last third of his beer. Clarke frowned, suddenly wishing she hadn't brought it up. “I'm sorry, Shet.” He shook his head. “Nah, don't be,” he told her, “We got married a month after I got back and divorced ten months later. Thought rushing into the marriage would be no big deal; turns out by then we were just two strangers who thought we still knew each other. We were wrong.”  
  
“I get it,” Artigas added, giving a long nod. “Things change while you're gone; your friends go on living their lives and when you get back everything's different.” He shrugged then before saying, “Or maybe you're just different. I don't know. It's not exactly hard to see why Tristan thought it was a good idea to go back.”  
  
“It isn't?” Clarke asked, glancing around the table and was surprised as almost everyone there began shaking their head. She had to bite the inside of her cheek, forcing herself not to look at Lexa as her wife remained still beside her and Echo began talking.  
  
“In a lot of ways life's easier as a soldier,” she informed the blonde, staring at her beer in front of her and twisting the glass around casually on the table. “You do what you're told, follow your orders and carry your gun. There's more to it, sure, but overall that's the job. When you wake up in the morning there's one goal: make sure you're able to get back to your bed at the end of the day. When your tour's done you go back home and everything's just... different.”  
  
“Friends want to know what it was like, your mother's just crying because part of her didn't think you'd actually make it back in one piece,” Artigas said, picking right up where Echo left off. “And you're just expected to find your next job and get back to a normal life.”  
  
“You go from shooting at people one week to putting together a resume and finding a nice suit for your three job interviews the next,” Quint agreed with a snort as he shook his head. Ryder nodded beside him. “There are a lot of soldiers who have a hard time assimilating back into society,” he said, nodding towards Lexa as he spoke. “We see people all the time at the VA talking about how part of them just wants to go back because it's what they know.”  
  
“I've been a Marine for my entire adult life,” Rivo told them, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. Raising his glass he looked over its brim, telling them, “I wouldn't know how to be anything else.” He took a long drink and Clarke saw more heads nod, and that bubble of fear grew again in her gut no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. Lexa still sat silently beside her, her expression almost unreadable, but out of the corner of her eye Clarke saw it, could tell she knew exactly what they were all talking about and that fear started to shift into panic. She tampered it down with a long gulp of her own beer.  
  
“Soldiers are the only other ones who really get it,” Artigas said quietly, something shining in his eyes the blonde couldn't quite read. “Like when people ask if you shot anyone.” Quint rolled his eyes hard, adding sarcastically, “No, I asked the Reapers nicely to stop burning down homes and killing the men and kidnapping and raping the women. It worked out great.” From the corner of her eye Clarke saw Lexa's grip on her glass tighten ever so slightly even as Shet let out a bark of humorless laughter. “Yeah, don't they all know that's what war is? It's all please and thank yous.” A few others around the table shook their heads and as they did Lexa lifted her glass, finishing off her beer. Rather than set the empty glass down she pushed her chair back and nodded down to Clarke's nearly empty glass.  
  
“Do you want another?” she asked. She had every intention of getting another drink and maybe even a round of shots for the table, the idea of getting a little drunk very appealing in that moment. Since neither of them would be driving she saw no reason Clarke couldn't also get another, and waited for a moment as the blonde studied her glass, clearly weighing her decision. “Sure,” she finally said before grabbing her cup and downing the last of its contents and then handing it up to her. She flashed the brunette a smile, telling her, “Thanks Love.” Lexa returned the smile with a small one of her own and leaned down farther than needed as she accepted the glass so she could press a soft kiss to the blonde's lips. She heard Shet and Artigas each let out a whistle but ignored them, letting herself get lost just for a split second in the kiss. Despite the many emotions tumbling around inside her head and chest Clarke grounded her, just as she always did, and it was enough to momentarily clear away some of the static she felt buzzing in the back of her mind. A moment later she pulled away, flashing her wife another little smile before she left the table and waded her way up to the bar through the throng of people crowding the floor.  
  
When she came back with a tray of shots and two beers balanced in the center, she frowned, eyes quickly scanning over the table. “Where's Clarke?” she wanted to know, setting the tray down with minor sloshing of the liquid in any of the glasses, and then she was looking over the bar, searching for the head of blonde hair she would know anywhere.  
  
“Got a phone call,” Echo answered, reaching forward and helping herself to one of the shots. As the others all did the same, Ryder glanced up at her, telling her, “From the look on her face when she saw the screen, it was probably the kids.” Lexa frowned for a second, a moment of worry gnawing at her gut before she glanced back over to the bar, finding the clock behind it. Seeing what time it was, that worry dissipated quickly. Bed time.  
  
“So Ryder was telling us about the VA,” Shet said, glancing over at her as he pulled his shot in front of him. “Said you go in and help out every now and then.”  
  
“Mm,” she agreed as she took her seat again, grabbing her beer and Clarke's but leaving the two last shots on the tray. “Trikru helped me a while ago, now I go in once, sometimes twice a week.” She didn't have to say what the center helped her with; looking around the table, she could see they all understood. She grinned then, glancing over at Ryder, and added, “My daughter loves it there.” That seemed to throw them off, Quint and Artigas both giving her strange looks while Shet frowned.  
  
“You take your kid?” Quint questioned, clearly not sure what to make of that. She nodded, telling them, “I couldn't get a babysitter the first time I went so I took her with me, now she gets upset if we don't go in and see her friends at least once a week.” Ryder smiled beside her, nodding also as he added, “And the soldiers get just as upset; Skylar's won over everyone there.”  
  
“Well?” Echo demanded quietly, lifting an eyebrow at her and Lexa met the look, watching as her lips curled up into a smile. “Aren't you gonna show us a picture of them? You're a mom; you gotta have some on you.” She grinned then and took her phone from her pocket, unlocking it and going through her pictures until she found her favorite one with all three of them. She handed it to Ryder who passed it around the circle, everyone peering over the phone's screen as it was handed to them.  
  
“Shit Heda, those are some cute kids,” Artigas told her as he looked at the picture before passing the phone onto Quint. The larger man accepted it, barely even looking at the picture before scoffing and shaking his head. “If they're adopted, why does each one of them have that same stubborn look you get when you're not gonna back down from something?” The question made her lips tug a little further up, nodding towards the phone as she replied, “Tris, the older girl, is the most stubborn of the three, but yeah, they all have their moments.”  
  
“I'm not sure which of their mothers to say they take after,” Rivo stated, giving Lexa a look as he smirked, and she simply lifted her head a little higher as she returned it. Before she could say anything though she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around to find Clarke behind her, holding her phone up with her hand over the screen.  
  
“Sky needs you to read _Goodnight Moon_ before she can sleep,” she just said, eyes twinkling a little as she handed the phone over to her. “We already read _Chicka-Chicka-Boom-Boom_.” As she transferred the phone over and her hand moved away from the screen, Lexa could see their three kids all piled on Abby's couch, each already in their pajamas despite the fact it was early enough there that Cal and Tris wouldn't be going to bed for another hour or so.  
  
“Mama!” she managed to hear through the phone even with the noise from the bar, and she immediately stood up, taking the phone from her wife. “Hey guys!” she said, everything around her instantly dropping away. “How was your day with Nana?” As Cal and Tris both started talking at once and Skylar grinned at her she picked her way through the crowd, heading for the nearest exit so she could talk with them without having to strain her ears over the noise around her.  
  
Clarke watched her walk away, her heart aching wonderfully in her chest. She didn't think she'd ever quite be able to get over the way Lexa's face always lit up at just the mention of their kids, and she knew she never wanted to. A moment later she felt a light tap on her arm and looked down to see Rivo holding Lexa's phone out to her, giving her a grin as she frowned.  
  
“She was showing off those kids of yours,” he answered the silent question, and as she took the phone from him she did indeed see the faces of their three kids grinning back at her from Lexa's screen. She smiled and nodded to him as she locked the phone and slipped it into her pocket, her attention pulled back to the group around the table as Shet shook his head.  
  
“I seriously just can't believe Heda has kids,” he stated, that surprise just lightly coloring his tone. “Like, shit, she's a mom. It's weird.”  
  
“She's a great mom,” Clarke told him, looking back over her shoulder towards the door Lexa had disappeared through, but then shrugged as she turned back around. “But yeah, trust me, it is a little weird sometimes. Amazing, but weird.”  
  
“She's not like, a soccer mom is she?” Artigas wanted to know, leaning forward over the table a little. “Cuz that I can't picture.”  
  
One of Clarke's eyebrows rose. “My friend Octavia used to play soccer; I can tell you from first hand experience not all soccer moms fit that stereotype. Some are downright scary.” She paused for a second then before grabbing the drink Lexa had gotten her and adding, “But no, we're not soccer moms; we're hockey moms.”  
  
“Very nice,” Rivo said in approval, tilting his glass to her. She nodded to him before taking a drink, and looked over as Quint tilted back in his chair. “You two are moms, the kid is almost thirty,” he said, shaking his head and hooking his thumb at Artigas who rolled his eyes. “Things have changed, that's for sure.”  
  
“That's for damn sure,” Shet agreed with a scoff. “Last time I saw most of you I was shooting people, now I work construction and spend my days building houses for other people that're better than my own.”  
  
“I went from being a Marine to working at a bank,” Artigas muttered, leaning back in his chair and finishing the last dregs of his beer. Quint looked from him over to Echo and lifted an eyebrow. “What about you? What're you doing now?” She looked at him nonchalantly, expression barely changing as she answered, “I've been a firefighter for the past year. I tried a desk job as soon as I left the Marines but couldn't do it.” Quint smirked, scoffing a little as he said, “Bet you wipe the floor with everyone in that station.” She just barely tilted her head, the thinnest of smiles pulling at her mouth before she replied, “We got along pretty well. I'm transferring to a new station though. I've had enough of the winters on the East Coast for a while.”  
  
“They're brutal,” Shet agreed as Rivo asked, “Where are you transferring to?”  
  
“Arkadia, in California,” she answered, and Clarke nearly spit out the sip of beer she'd just taken. “Wait, Arkadia?” she asked and Echo nodded. The blonde grinned, sliding her drink back on the table as she said, “That's only about two hours away from us. My friend Bellamy is a professor at the local college. You met him at the wedding; I could get him to show you around if you want.”  
  
“Wasn't he the guy that was glad there were no strippers at Heda's bachelorette party?” Artigas asked, and Shet shook his head, swearing under his breath, “Fucking Tony.” Clarke tried to bite back her grin and was only partially successful as she nodded. “From what I remember, yeah, that was him. In his defense though, it was only the male strippers he had any problem with, and only because his sister was one of the ones getting a lap dance.”  
  
“What is this about male strippers and lap dances?” she heard from behind her, and turned a little to see that Lexa must have just gotten back. She would have looked intimidating peering down at them in her dress blues if not for the way she looked at Clarke, one eyebrow raised and her head tilting slightly to the side. She held out the blonde's phone and Clarke took it, pulling Lexa's out from her pocket and trading with her.  
  
“We were just talking about my bachelorette party,” she answered smugly, easily meeting her wife's look. “And the strippers Raven got for me. Bellamy wasn't entirely impressed with the guys who gave Octavia a lap dance.”  
  
“Mm,” Lexa replied, eyeing the blonde in what was clearly an unimpressed look as she once again filled in the spot next to her wife at the table. “At least Octavia only had the one stripper. If I remember the story correctly, you got lap dances from each of them.” Clarke just shrugged, still smirking smugly as she said, “Hey, it was a bachelorette party Lexa, what can you expect?”  
  
“Why the hell did we even invite Tony?” Shet demanded, scowling as he looked around the table. “He's the only reason we didn't get 'em too. Thought it would be inappropriate but come on! How did we all miss out on lap dances like that?”  
  
“Speak for yourself,” Lexa stated evenly, just the corner of her lips twitching up as she calmly reached forward and grabbed her drink. “I got one of the best lap dances of my life that night.” Out of the corner of her eye she glanced over to Clarke, watching as the blonde's smirk grew. Her wife leaned over, shoulder bumping her own before Clarke turned and pressed a light kiss to it. Even though she couldn't feel the touch through her thick jacket, somehow she could still feel the electricity from it shoot through the fabric to her skin, and it warmed her chest even more than her light buzz could. “You certainly did.”  
  
“At least that's one thing that hasn't changed,” Rivo decided, looking over at the two of them from the corner of his eyes as he barely suppressed a smile. “Glad to see you two are still together after all this time.”  
  
“Of course,” Lexa replied, both eyebrows rising a little at even just the thought they might not be. Subconsciously she leaned over, her hand slipping into the blonde's as her fingers began to absentmindedly play with Clarke's. “I can't imagine my life without her.”  
  
“Same,” Clarke agreed, squeezing lightly against the other woman's grip. On Lexa's other side Ryder nodded once as he took a long swig of his drink before saying offhandedly, “I don't think there's anything that could pull these two apart.” Quint snorted and leaned forward, looking between the two of them. “Don't think any of us ever thought otherwise. We were all at the wedding; there was no getting the two of them apart at that reception, not for more than a minute or two.”  
  
Shet let out a bark of laughter as he elbowed Quint in the side. “No matter how many times I tried to cut in, there was no way Heda was letting me dance with her girl that night.” He shot Clarke a wink that just made her laugh as she shook her head and Lexa's grip on her hand tightened just a little, her shoulder bumping back against the blonde's. Artigas grinned, slapping the table lightly as he added, “'Cept for when they cut the wedding cake.” Quirking an eyebrow up, he shot a look at Lexa. “Your new bride wasn't expecting you to shove that slice in her face, was she?” The corners of the brunette's mouth twitched at the memory, clearly remembering the look Clarke had given her as frosting and chunks of cake had stuck to her chin and cheeks before shoving her own slice into her face. Little Jonas had thought that was really funny and tried to do the same to his sister before Lincoln stopped him but she and Clarke hadn't even noticed, the two too busy laughing as they tried to wipe frosting off each other. She could still taste the sweetness of that frosting on her lips from when she'd kissed Clarke and just made even more of a mess.  
  
“Tristan was the one who convinced me to do that,” she mused, the smile still tugging slightly against her lips. “Said it was a tradition I had to uphold if I wanted the marriage to last. I didn't even try to argue with him.” The name caused the mood around the table to shift, everyone suddenly just a touch more sombre than they had been just a minute ago. The next second Rivo held up his shot, eyes scanning around the table. “To Tristan.”  
  
“To Tristan,” they all echoed, Clarke and Lexa both reaching forward and raising their glasses with the rest of them, and then as one they all tilted their heads back and downed the drinks, the harsh burn of the alcohol tearing down their throats.  
  
For another two hours they stayed at the bar, ordering beers and shots until Lexa could have sworn stools and tables that shouldn't be moving were spinning ever so slightly at the edge of her vision. She chugged a few glasses of water before she, Clarke and Ryder decided it was time to go, but even so she still found herself leaning a little more heavily than usual against her wife as they exited the building. Somehow Clarke remained solid beside her, the blonde having had a little less to drink than her, but even so they were both happy to fall into the car Clarke had ordered from Lyft the moment the door was open and there in front of them. Ryder piled in behind them no more gracefully, his alcohol consumption easily on par with the brunette's, and then they were off and headed back to the hotel. The cool glass of the window felt wonderful against Lexa's forehead but was nowhere near as wonderful as having Clarke pressed up against her side, and the only thing that made it feel like a long car ride was the fact she had to pee after only a few minutes after the car had started moving. Soon they were back at the hotel and saying goodnight to Ryder as they parted in the hallway to their respective rooms, and as soon as Clarke managed to get their door open she was nearly stumbling into the bathroom.  
  
Turning off the light behind her as she exited the room, Lexa looked over towards the bed to see Clarke standing with her back towards her, their suitcase open and laying on the mattress in front of her. She could see the blonde pulling out two pairs of sweatpants and a couple of t-shirts, and when she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her wife's waist she felt Clarke lean back against her.  
  
“Figured we could get ready for bed,” she murmured, looking back over her shoulder at the brunette. “I don't know about you, but I'm definitely ready to get out of this dress.”  
  
“I love you in dresses,” Lexa replied easily, the alcohol still swirling around in her brain making her words come out before she could even entirely process them. “Or not in them. I love it when you get out of them too.” She caught Clarke's smile before the other woman turned around in her arms, hands moving up to her shoulders and gently steering Lexa towards the bed. “Come on,” she said as Lexa let her guide her down until she was sitting against the mattress. “Let's get you out of this uniform and then I'm gonna go get you some more water.”  
  
Lexa had almost forgotten she was even still in her dress blues and looked down, finding her jacket a little uneven and her buckle no longer clasped. She must have forgotten to do it back up after she'd finished peeing. Still she ignored it, frowning as she looked down at herself and remembered why she was wearing it. Glancing back up at the blonde, Clarke could see the pain re-surfacing she'd tried to push away all day, either unable to do so in her current condition or not even trying to now that they were alone. “Tristan's dead.”  
  
“I know,” she whispered, a pang rippling through her chest not only for the man who'd lost his life but also for her wife who'd lost a friend and comrade. “I know, Lexa. I'm right here.” Lexa nodded as she swallowed thickly and then looked down, just watching as Clarke began to gently unbutton her jacket. “Come on, let's get you out of this.”  
  
Slowly Clarke got her out of the uniform, Lexa barely helping except to lift an arm or leg up as her wife instructed. Down to only her underwear, even her bra taken off, the blonde handed her a pair of sweatpants and one of the t-shirts. Glancing up she caught blue eyes searching her, and then nodded when Clarke asked, “Can you get these on while I get you some water?”  
  
Clarke debated for a second and then grabbed her wallet and the key card before slipping out of the room and down to the end of the hall where she found a vending machine. The room supplied little plastic cups but she wanted Lexa to have more than just that beside her without having to keep getting up to refill it, so she fished a few dollars from her wallet and got them each a water bottle. When she made it back to the room she found her wife all changed and sitting up against the headboard, just staring off slightly. Quietly she slipped over to her, placing one of the water bottles in her hand and the other on the table beside the bed, telling her, “Drink that. It'll make you feel better.”  
  
“I feel fine, Clarke,” Lexa told her but didn't put up any other kind of argument, quickly uncapping the bottle and taking a few long sips. The blonde eyed her for a second, trying to see if she could easily refute the statement, but at the moment the other woman seemed to be alright. There was a look in those green eyes that made Clarke's stomach flip uneasily she tried to ignore, but other than that she seemed to be holding her own. Lexa took another long sip from the bottle and the blonde turned around, her arm twisting back behind her to tug at the zipper of her dress. A moment later she was pushing the fabric off of her, letting it pool into a pile on the floor. She let her bra join it and then slipped into her own sweatpants and t-shirt, immediately feeling a little bit better now that she could at least wear comfortable clothing. Grabbing the suitcase from the bed, she pushed it up against the wall and got her own water bottle before climbing up beside her wife. The moment she was settled she leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Lexa's shoulder.  
  
“I'm so sorry, Lexa,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I'm just so sorry.”  
  
“He made his choice to go back,” she replied almost mechanically, and Clarke knew what she was saying didn't match up with how she felt. “He knew what could happen.”  
  
“That doesn't mean you can't be sad,” she insisted softly, eyes never leaving the brunette's face, reading everything in her expression even if she tried to hide it away. “He was your friend.”  
  
“He was,” Lexa agreed quietly. “He was a-” She had to close her eyes as her voice broke, had to swallow past a sudden lump in her throat. “-a good guy. A good soldier. He shouldn't have... This didn't have to happen.”  
  
“Like you said, he made a choice,” Clarke said quietly, shaking her head. “That doesn't make it easy or... or even right necessarily but... He wanted to be a soldier. And he was.”  
  
“He was,” Lexa agreed, her voice trailing off. “It was all he knew how to be.” She stared off for a long moment, a thought that had slowly been pushing at the back of her mind all day coming out to the forefront, and she frowned slightly as she tried to think it entirely through. Nothing about what happened to Tristan sat right with her, a ball of guilt she couldn't entirely understand settling in her chest, and all she could do was think about a proposal given to her a few months ago now. That proposal now at the forefront of her mind, she began slowly, “Clarke, I think I should-”  
  
“No,” Clarke growled, cutting her off, the fear suddenly clawing at her chest making the word come out more angrily than she meant it to. All day she'd seen something going on behind the mask her wife tried to wear, and terror at what that something might mean finally bubbled over, filling her completely. Lexa's eyes widened a little at the outburst and she shifted over until she was straddling her wife's lap, effectively holding the brunette in place. “You can't go back, Lexa,” she continued, and even she could hear the panic creeping into her voice. Just the thought of it had her heart racing, and briefly she wondered if her wife could hear its beating too. “I-I won't let you. I need you here, Lexa. I need you with me. I can't do that again. Not, not now. Not with our kids.” Thinking about Cal and Tris and Skylar, she shook her head roughly. “You can't ask me to do that. You can't ask me to be okay with that, not when we were just at the funeral of someone you served with. I can't lose you, Lexa. I can't take the chance I might have to raise our kids on my own. They need you; I need you. Please don't-”  
  
“Clarke,” Lexa cut her off, reaching up and gently cupping her chin. She could see the panic in her wife's eyes, felt it bubbling over, and internally screamed at herself. Of course this was where the blonde's mind had gone; how could it not? She would have seen it sooner if she hadn't been so focused on bottling up her emotions and pushing them away, and now she just sat there kicking herself while her grip on her love's chin remained gentle. “I'm not going back,” she swore, not looking away from those blue eyes still swimming with fear, hoping she saw the truth of her words. “I'm not; I don't want to. I don't want to go anywhere or do anything that would take me away from you and the life we've built. I would never choose to walk away from you or our family. Never.”  
  
Instant relief flooded through Clarke's system, hitting her so hard all she could do was slump forward, pressing a little harder against her wife. Even so she could still feel traces of her worry, that one fear that always seemed to hide at the back of her consciousness eating away at her. She scanned Lexa's face, seeing the truth in bright green eyes staring back at her, and heard herself whisper, “You're not?”  
  
“No,” Lexa swore again, the affirmation in her voice helping to settle her fear even further. She felt the brunette's hands move to her hips, fingers holding her tightly as she repeated, “I'm never going anywhere and I'm definitely never leaving you or our kids. There's nothing in the world that could make me.”  
  
Clarke's eyes closed, her throat burning now for an entirely different reason as tears began to prick at the corners of her eyes. Her head fell forward lightly, her forehead pressing against Lexa's, and the two just sat there for a moment, the brunette holding her while Clarke pressed down against her. “I'm, I'm sorry Lexa,” she muttered finally, shaking her head without opening her eyes. “I thought-”  
  
“I know,” Lexa replied, her head moving right along with the blonde's. “I can see how you'd think that. But I'm not. Not ever.” She watched as Clarke's eyes opened again, finding damp blue immediately darting to meet her gaze. Without needing to think about it she pushed forward, desperately needing to kiss her love's fears away. Clarke's lips pressed hungrily against her own, her fingers moving up to grip her face and pull her closer, and her own hands remained firmly around the other woman's waist, holding her in place. They remained connected for long minutes, both of them needing that connection, needing to feel the other woman against them and holding them and loving them, and when their mouths did pull away they didn't go very far.  
  
“I love you, Lexa,” Clarke whispered, and the brunette could feel her breath against her lips. “So, _so_ much.”  
  
“I love you too, Clarke,” Lexa told her, one of her thumbs rubbing soothingly along the blonde's hip. “More than I can describe.” Clarke nodded against her, the silence drawing out for another long moment, before she bit her lip, looking away and then back again. “So uh... What were you going to say?” Lexa felt her lips curl up in a small smile at the other woman's apparent guilt for cutting her off, and pressed a quick kiss against her chin. By the time she pulled back she found an equally small smile tugging at the blonde's lips and she leaned back against the headboard so she could really look at her wife.  
  
“A few months ago Ryder asked me to go work with him at the center,” she answered, watching Clarke closely to try to gauge her reaction. “I don't know exactly what it would entail, but it sounds like he could use some help running the place. He told me it wouldn't need to be every day, just whenever I could, but I told him I couldn't help him. But...” She shrugged then, brow furrowing a little. “I was thinking maybe I could? Skylar's turning three in a few days, which means she could be starting preschool in the next year or so and that would give me more time. Until then maybe it could just be a day or two a week and she could either come with me or we could see if my father or your mother could watch her?”  
  
“She already loves the center and the people there love her,” Clarke reminded her, and Lexa nodded quickly. “So I don't think it would really be a problem for any of them. It might mean figuring out a different car-pooling schedule with Octavia and Lincoln but...” She shrugged again, a slight frown pulling at her expression and the blonde's eyes scanned over her, trying to read whatever she was thinking. As though she understood that, she looked back up and met those blue eyes again, continuing quietly, “I just want to be able to help other soldiers however I can. Maybe if... Maybe if Tristan had somewhere like Trikru to go, people to talk to who understood... Maybe he wouldn't have gone back.” Her hands slipped to Clarke's back, pulling her a little closer, and she leaned forward so she could rest her forehead against the blonde's shoulder as she closed her eyes. She felt her wife's hands move, one slipping into her hair while the other moved to the back of her neck, massaging it lightly. “I had you,” she murmured, just loud enough so she knew Clarke could hear her. “I had you; you helped me slip back into civilian life, kept me here even after I healed and might have been able to go back. A lot of people don't have that; I've seen that at the center and I saw it tonight with my unit. If I can help...”  
  
“Then you should,” she heard the blonde say, and at that she picked her head back up, eyes scanning her love's face. Clarke was looking at her softly, mouth just barely curled into a smile. “If you can help and stay safe and stay with me, then you should.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Lexa wanted to know, looking for any sign she wasn't actually okay with it. “I don't think this will necessarily take up much of my time, but if it does...”  
  
“Then we'll figure it out,” Clarke finished with a shrug. “Just like we do everything.” She could see Lexa searching, trying to make sure she actually meant it, and felt something squeeze inside her chest. Her hand slid down, fingers trailing lightly along her cheek before cupping her chin. “You're so good, Lexa,” she murmured, wondering if her love had even the slightest idea how amazing she really was. “You're the greatest person I know. Everything you do is for other people, and I don't know if you know how much I love that about you.” She leaned forward, lightly pressing her forehead against her wife's, and saw her eyes partially close as she listened to the blonde's words. “I love how much you love me and our kids, but I also love how much you care about other people as well. I don't know what it's like to be a soldier trying to fall back into a civilian's life, but I'm entirely sure you could help. If this is something you want to do, then I'm behind you. One hundred percent.” Lexa smiled, that smile she really only ever showed around her or their kids, and then the brunette nuzzled into her neck and Clarke felt a shiver run down her spine when she felt her nose skim lightly along her skin. They held each other for a second before Lexa pulled back just so she could shift up and once again capture the blonde's lips in a kiss.  
  
The kiss didn't exactly last as long as she had been expecting when she felt Clarke let out a light chuckle and pull back. She quirked an eyebrow at the blonde and her wife met the look, saying, “As much as I want to kiss you right now, you taste a little bit like old beer. Come on, let's brush our teeth and maybe get a little more water in you, and then we can get back to the kissing.”  
  
“You taste like beer too and I'm not complaining,” Lexa muttered but didn't fight it as the blonde crawled off her lap and swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing up. She caught the look Clarke gave her as she held out her hand, pulling Lexa up with her as she replied, “Yeah well you actually like beer; if you tasted like wine it might be a different story.” Lexa shot a grin at her, stepping forward and re-wrapping her arms around the other woman's waist long enough to pull her in for a quick hug from behind.  
  
“You make a valid point,” she admitted, and then realized it was probably a good thing they were getting up anyway. “Plus I have to pee again, so we need to take a timeout from the kissing anyway.” She pecked Clarke's cheek and then stepped around her, heading for the bathroom as she heard behind her, “Well hurry up, I have to pee too.” She flashed the blonde a quick smile behind her as she led the way into the bathroom, flicking on the light as she went.  
  
Peeing, brushing their teeth, and then back to kissing; there were certainly worse ways to end a hard day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone reading "Connections" and wondering where the heck the updates are for that story, I'm working on the next chapter and will hopefully have it up in the next two weeks. 
> 
> Also writing this chapter made me really miss the Grounders...


	15. Chapter Fifteen - Guns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since there is a little more medical business in this chapter than usual, I want to take a moment to say I have zero background in medicine of any kind, so I apologize for any inaccuracies. Everything I know comes from medical shows (mostly _House_ ) and Google. 
> 
> Also I want to give a quick warning: there is a child death in this chapter (not one we've met yet, don't worry). Though a little spoilery, I think it's an important note to give, just to be safe.

_Three Years Later_

With barely an hour left before she could go home, Clarke's pen tapped impatiently against the counter as she tried not to look at the clock again. As much as she knew she should be focusing on the paperwork for her last surgery, a splenectomy for a man in his early twenties with no complications, with every passing second it was becoming harder and harder. Under normal circumstances she had no problem paying attention to her work but she was finally coming to the end of a twelve hour shift and found it hard to think of anything other than going home. None of the kids had been up when she had to leave that morning and she'd even barely managed to give Lexa more than a simple kiss after she'd gotten back from her run before she had to go, so she was getting a little impatient at the thought of being able to see her family again. As it was she would just manage to get home in time to read Skylar her nightly bedtime story and then hound the other two over whether or not they'd finished their homework yet. Thinking about that, Clarke felt the corners of her lips twitch; she had no doubt Lexa would have been on them both ever since they got home from school, but having a little bit of backup never hurt. Especially since Tris despised homework with every fiber of her being and often had to be goaded into doing it.  
  
All thoughts of going home and seeing her family wiped away when she heard the sound of sirens just outside, followed within seconds by the mechanical sweep of the automatic doors opening and then the squeaking wheels of a gurney being pushed through the doorway and two sets of heavy footsteps nearly overpowering the squeak. All of those noises were lost beneath the desperate cries coming from the woman trying to push her way past the two paramedics to stand beside the whimpering child being wheeled into the hospital. Now entirely focused on her job, Clarke left her paperwork on the reception desk and hurried over to the new party.  
  
“What do we have?” she demanded as she stepped up beside the gurney, making sure not to get in the paramedics' way but needing to get a better look at the boy. He looked to be about six or seven though he was dwarfed on the gurney with so many people crowding around him. His sandy blonde hair was now dark from perspiration and the smattering of freckles across his nose stood out far too well from just how pale he'd gone. As she looked his eyelids drooped and then rose again as though he were forcing them to stay open and losing the fight. One paramedic held an oxygen mask to his face, urging him to keep breathing while the other pressed against a bandage covering a large portion of his chest. Blood seeped through what had once been off white woven gauze, staining it bright red. Clarke didn't even need either of the paramedics to say anything, she could already tell exactly what kind of wound they were working with and the knowledge of it made her own blood run cold.  
  
“Seven-year-old male took two bullets, one to the chest and one to the abdomen,” one of the paramedics told her quickly, his hand still pressed against the bandage. “He's been in and out of consciousness. We haven't been able to slow down the bleeding.”  
  
By now there were three nurses surrounding the area as well, one already with her hands on the gurney and the other two prepared for the second the paramedics stepped away. They did, and the two nurses swooped in to take their spots. Clarke remained practically glued to the gurney, not once taking her eyes off the boy. “Get OR One prepped for surgery and I want a CT scan of the chest and abdomen,” she called out, fully aware someone would be there to hear her and do as she said. “Get a unit of O negative ready for transfusion.” Another nurse nodded quickly and ran to get everything ready for her and she knew by the time they got there she would have a full team ready to do whatever they had to in order to save this boy's life.  
  
They sped down the hallway, the paramedics still with them and filling Clarke in on everything she needed to know, the doctor nodding away and throwing more questions at them. By now she was so used to the mayhem of emergencies that she didn't even realize the woman who'd come in with the boy was no longer with them until they got to the doors leading to the operating rooms and realized she no longer heard her cries. Looking up for the first time since the boy had been wheeled in she found the woman at the end of the hall with another nurse physically holding her back. With the way she continued to stare at the gurney, clearly barely seeing anyone but the little boy and shaking in the nurse's arms Clarke knew she had to be his mother. Somewhere deep inside of her she ached for this woman but the feeling was too far away to really grasp at the moment, buried too deeply to even notice. Right now all she could focus on was her patient and the injuries in front of her and not how those wounds were affecting anyone but him.  
  
Quickly the doctor scrubbed in, prepping herself for the surgery as fast as possible while her team prepared the boy. Within what felt simultaneously like seconds and hours they were ready and the anesthesiologist had the little boy out, his quiet whimpers now silent as he finally fell into unconsciousness. Two others stood around the room, a nurse and a surgical tech, making sure Clarke had everything she would need. She'd worked with each of these people before and knew they would all do whatever was necessary to try to save the little boy on the table in front of them. Without a word they got to work.  
  
One of the first lessons Clarke had learned when she'd finally finished all her schooling and took on the role of trauma surgeon: in the operating room, time was her real opponent. No matter who laid in front of her or what the wound was, her biggest obstacle was always time. The time always moved at a steady pace despite how much it felt like it always sped up while she had to slow down. Even as the energy in the room spiked, everyone moving and working together like a well-oiled machine, Clarke had to go carefully as the seconds ticked away. Every cut, every movement had to be precise. Her hands couldn't shake, her confidence in herself and those around her couldn't waver. They had to move quickly to figure out exactly what the bullets had torn through and where the worst danger was but to Clarke it never felt like they could move fast enough. With every second that went by the boy lost yet more blood, and she could easily see his skin losing all color.  
  
“Come on,” she muttered to herself, hands still steady as she worked. Glancing up just briefly she looked at the boy's face, his eyes closed and looking almost like he was sleeping. The look terrified her but she pushed that terror back, didn't let it affect her work. “You have to work with me. Keep fighting with me.” The nurses around her didn't say anything, just glanced at him and kept at their own work.  
  
They all kept going. Despite the fact that the bleeding was heaviest from the shot to the abdomen Clarke focused first on the chest wound. The bullet had caused one of the boy's lungs to collapse so she used a plastic tube to remove the excess air from his chest, hoping to re-inflate the lung. She then worked carefully to remove the bullet which had lodged itself into his right scapula, making sure not to cause anymore damage as she pulled it out. Only once that wound seemed to be as stable as possible for the moment did she move on to the abdomen, having to open him up to get a better idea of what she was working with. As the doctor worked to find the source of the bleeding and fix it, one of the nurses helped with the suction, doing his best to simultaneously stay out of Clarke's way and make it easier for her to see what she was doing.  
  
The wound to the abdomen had the blonde biting the inside of her cheek while she worked though she didn't realize it. The bullet had caused more damage than she'd hoped, enough that it was difficult to see where the worst bleeding was coming from. Clarke worked diligently, repairing blood vessels and closely examining the organs as she went. There was no bullet to pull out of this wound; unlike the first one, this bullet had entered his left upper quadrant, torn through his liver and stomach and then exited out his back. The surgeon worked quickly, trying to repair as much damage to the two organs as she could.  
  
Hours passed as the team worked but the doctor noticed the time only in her fight against it. At one point the boy's blood pressure dropped to a dangerous level, one of the nurses noticing the drop just as the beeping of the medical monitor began to pick up. They managed to get it back under control but Clarke could feel her own heart racing as she got back to work, her hands still perfectly steady. Though the nurses in the room also remained focused she could feel the energy around them skyrocket, each one of them clearly afraid of what might happen if his blood pressure dropped again.  
  
In the end, it wasn't the blood pressure that ended everything.  
  
“Dr. Woods!” the anesthesiologist exclaimed and Clarke stilled her movements in their patient's abdomen before glancing over at her. She followed the woman's gaze until she noticed the blood pooling up through the tube still sticking out of the boy's chest. Swearing, she immediately moved to it as his lungs continued to fill with the liquid and drip down the side of the tube. She worked to drain the fluid from his lungs and find the source of the bleed, but just as she did she heard exactly what she'd been dreading this whole time as the tempo of the heart rate monitor suddenly slowed.  
  
“Heart rate's dropping,” the surgical tech announced unnecessarily, already rushing to get the defibrillator. Quickly she wheeled the machine over to Clarke who grabbed the paddles, holding them out as the other woman squirted gel on them. As she did an unmistakeable and grating noise filled the room as their patient's heart rate flat lined. The anesthesiologist and nurse had already stepped back by the time they were ready, but even so the doctor glanced around the room, calling, “Clear!” With no more warning than that she stepped forward and pressed the paddles to the boy's chest. His body jerked, chest heaving up from the electrical jolt but the line on the heart monitor didn't change. Clarke bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood and held the paddles out for more gel as they recharged, not taking her eyes off of her patient for even so much as a second. The moment the defibrillator was ready she stepped forward again, calling another, “Clear,” despite the fact no one else had moved back over to the table. Again the body jolted but still the monitor let out the one long continuous drone, the sound baring down on Clarke's eardrums. It blurred out any other noises, amplified many times over by the heavy weight suddenly stuck in her chest. When she stepped back the surgical technician held out the gel again, clearly thinking it might be worth something to give it one more try but the doctor shook her head. She dropped the paddles back on the tray with the machine and looked over at the clock hanging above the door.  
  
“Time of death, 9:57 PM,” she stated, the pain she felt not yet managing to creep its way into her voice. She could see that pain reflected in the eyes of the others in the room but none of them said anything. The surgical technician stepped away, dragging the defibrillator with her to clean it and make sure it was ready for its next use. The anesthesiologist removed the mask from over the boy's face, glancing briefly at him before needing to look away and then stepped away to continue with her own responsibilities. Clarke looked up at the nurse, a man in his fifties clearly having just as hard a time with this as the rest of them, and nodded down to the still body. “Let's close him up. His mother doesn't need to see him like this.” He returned the nod and the two got to work cleaning up their lost patient.  
  
When Clarke stepped out of the operating room, she wasn't very surprised to see a few nurses and doctors standing around, all giving her that knowing look, already aware of what had happened. A few people moved over to her, clapping her lightly on the arm or grasping her shoulder, murmuring about how she'd done everything she could and to each she just nodded mechanically. It never felt like she'd done everything possible when she lost a patient, especially not one as young as this one, but they understood that too. Most walked away after giving her a little pat but one didn't, and when she saw him she forced her lips into a small smile.  
  
“Jaime,” she said, a hint of relief she wasn't sure she actually felt bubbling up her throat and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. He'd only been working at Mount Memorial Hospital for a few months and they'd seen each other less than she'd originally thought they might but at this moment she was just glad he was there. Her eyes closed, a wetness quickly forming behind her eyelids she tried to ignore, and held onto him tightly for just a few seconds.  
  
“I'm sorry Clarke,” he whispered against her ear. “You did everything you could. Sometimes it's just not enough.” She nodded because she knew that and had learned it as a child when her mother came home after a bad day at work but it didn't make the weight in her chest any lighter. Her arms squeezed around him just a little tighter for only a second longer and then she backed away and he let his arms drop, the moment over. As she stepped back she opened her eyes and found his scanning her face, her pain reflecting back at her from dark eyes that understood what she was feeling all too well.  
  
“I need to go notify the family,” she stated, an iron control once again in her tone and he nodded as he stepped aside to let her go do just that. She could feel him watching her as she made her way down the hall, preparing herself for her least favorite part of the job. Losing someone on her operating table was always hard but facing their family and friends was just as difficult.  
  
Clarke rounded a corner towards the waiting room and found someone standing in the doorway, yet another face she recognized. She'd expected there to be police – when a seven year old is shot of course there's going to be an investigation – but it hadn't crossed her mind she'd see Lexa's old partner. Roan looked like he was waiting for her, and that suspicion was confirmed when he stepped over to her the moment he saw her approaching. Seeing him, a cold fury ignited in her chest momentarily burning away her pain.  
  
“Do you have a suspect?” she all but demanded as he closed the distance between them. She kept her voice down, not wanting the woman on the other side of the wall to hear them. She knew she had to go do this, had to tell a mother her son was gone, but first she needed to know what the hell had happened to put a seven-year-old in her operating room.  
  
She'd seen Roan only two months ago at one of their barbeques. Despite the fact Lexa was no longer on the force they all still kept in touch, meaning the large man was still very much a part of their strange extended family. The grim expression on his face made him look like he'd aged ten years in two months. The lines around his mouth seemed to deepen as he looked at her, clearly not needing to ask to know whether of not her patient had made it.  
  
“We don't need a suspect,” he answered, voice gruff. “We know what happened.” When Clarke raised an eyebrow, jaw still clenched as she tried to hold on to this fury he sighed and shook his head. “Ryan Hartford was shot by his five-year-old brother.” Clarke's eyes widened in shock and the big detective met the look. “Sounds like the boys found their father's gun and were playing with it. Louis had it and pulled the trigger while it was pointed at his brother. The noise scared him and he accidentally pulled it again. Their mother was in another room and didn't even realize what the noises were until she heard Louis crying.”  
  
Horrified, Clarke had to clench her jaw even harder to keep the burning she suddenly felt in her throat from growing. She fought to hold onto her fury, wanting its cold fire to fend off the weight of the pain in her chest, but she could feel it slowly slipping away. This was all one big stupid accident that didn't have to happen and the knowledge of that opened a hole in her gut.  
  
Looking past him to the door she mumbled, “I have to go inform the family.” He nodded as he stepped out of her way but told her, “I'll need to talk with you after. We've got a few questions.” She nodded numbly, the only response she could give, and then made her way to the doorway, trying to steal herself away. Ryan's mother would be hurting enough, she didn't need to see the doctor's pain too.  
  
The crying woman from before was no longer alone. A man sat next to her, the two bent over and desperately grasping at the other's hands. A little boy with the same smattering of freckles Ryan had sat beside the woman, brown eyes big and wide and terrified. Another woman who looked like she might be related to the boys' father sat on the other side of the child, one arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders.  
  
Clarke cleared her throat as she stepped into the room. “Mr. and Mrs. Hartford?” she called as evenly as she could and the man immediately looked up. The woman only looked over when he tugged lightly on her hands, and it seemed as though she were fighting through some kind of fog, eyes clearly taking a second to focus as she looked up at the doctor. After a second she seemed to recognize Clarke, and then she was jumping up, her husband right behind her.  
  
“My son,” she cried, her voice hoarse already. Her eyes wildly scanned the blonde's face, searching for the answer before she even asked the question. “Is he alright?”  
  
Swallowing thickly, Clarke made sure her voice was even before she answered quietly, “I'm so sorry. I did everything I could. His heart gave out on the table. I'm sorry.”  
  
Before she'd even finished speaking tears were rolling down Mr. Hartford's face, too many to count and too quickly to try. Mrs. Hartford stared at her for a long moment and Clarke didn't look away, knowing sometimes it took a minute for the news to sink in.  
  
“N-no,” she finally managed to push out from between lips that had gone pale. “No, you're wrong. He's not, no, he isn't, he can't be...” Her husband's hands went to her shoulders to try to steady her. “Maggie-” he began, but suddenly as though someone flipped a switch her entire demeanor changed.  
  
“No!” she screamed, pushing his hands away from her. “He isn't-! He can't be-! _Ryan_!” Her son's name came out in a mangled scream, a sound that had stopped Clarke's heart cold the first time she'd heard it, but this time she was ready for it. When Mrs. Hartford tried to push past her she stepped in front of her, not letting her get by.  
  
“Mrs. Hartford, please, I know you're upset but you need to calm down,” she stated in the most calming voice she could manage. The mother didn't listen to her, not that she'd really expected her to, and when Clarke remained in her way she grabbed the doctor's shoulders and tried to push her away.  
  
“No!” she continually screamed, “No, my baby! Ryan! _Ryan_!” Her husband tried to pull her away but she fought against him, and when Clarke still didn't move she began tearing at her arms, nails running down the lengths of her sleeves. “Get away from me! Get out of my way I need to find him! _Ryan_!”  
  
“I need some help here!” Clarke boomed, her voice rising over the woman's frantic cries as she held onto her. “Mrs. Hartford, you need to calm down!”  
  
Within seconds others were there, security and nurses both ready and trained for this kind of situation. The woman fought back against everyone, still thrashing around as she screamed for her lost son. Someone had brought a gurney with them and the group tried to wrestle her onto it but she wriggled and kicked, her fists flying out at anyone unlucky enough to be in her way. Clarke was right in the heart of it, wrestling to try to keep her arms down so she couldn't hurt herself or anyone else as she continued to try to calm her down. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a nurse with a needle, the group working to hold her still long enough so administer the sedative. Almost as soon as it was empty the woman's struggling slowed down, her movements now without much power behind them until she was entirely out. Clarke stepped back as a few nurses loaded her onto the gurney and then watched as they wheeled her away to admit her. She would remain sedated for hours, the doctor knew, and with any luck when she woke up she would be better able to handle this new reality. Exactly how the doctor didn't know; how does one accept the loss of their child?  
  
Muffled sobs managed to cut through the adrenaline still pumping through Clarke's system and she looked over to the members of the Hartford family still in the room. Mr. Hartford still stood in place as though frozen, staring down the hall where his wife had disappeared, and from the way he stood Clarke was pretty sure he didn't know he was still silently crying. The sobs she'd heard came from the chairs and she looked over to find Louis Hartford with his face buried against his aunt's shoulder, his tiny body shaking with his sobs. His aunt held onto him but looked lost, as though she couldn't truly believe she was there and this was all happening.  
  
Seeing that none of them would be able to take anymore right now, Clarke turned around to see Roan still standing in the doorway, the lines along his face now even deeper. She walked over to him, all while trying to push the echoing of Louis's sobs out of her skull.

***

By the time Clarke was able to leave the hospital after admitting Mrs. Hartford, speaking with the police and then Mr. Hartford and his sister some more and topping it all off with paperwork, she could feel her exhaustion sinking all the way into her bones. It began in her joints and spread outwards, a living thing that only seemed to grow inside her. Roan offered to drive her home, perhaps seeing just how exhausted she was, but she declined. Riding with him meant having to feel his own pain at this pointless tragedy beside her the whole way and that would only fuel her exhaustion. She wanted the drive alone, needed it to try to compartmentalize her incredibly shitty last few hours of work. There was no fighting off what she could feel growing inside her, this incredibly hollow mass of devastation, but there was fighting it back, at least for the time being. She cranked her music, screamed along with the lyrics of the 80's rock bands her parents used to listen to during every car ride and tried to forget.  
  
She was used to moving through a dark house after late shifts and so made her way easily up the stairs after getting home, avoiding the squeaky spot as she climbed up to the second floor. The upper floor was just as dark as the first floor, only a dull light coming through the crack of the door of the girls' room and the outline of light from her and Lexa's room. Just like every time she came home after bedtime she went to her daughters' room first and opened the door a little wider, peering inside. The light she'd seen came from the nightlight Skylar still used, plugged into the wall across from their beds. Two years ago they'd gotten bunk beds after Skylar had outgrown her “baby bed” as she'd called it, and now Clarke found Tris sleeping in the top bunk as her little sister slept below her, just as they did every night. The blonde silently stepped into the room and moved over to the set of beds and where usually she would quickly give them each a kiss and soft goodnight before sneaking out of the room, tonight she just stood there, staring at them. She studied Tris sleeping on her side, facing the room with sleep-mussed hair covering her face. The mother knew that despite how very asleep she looked the smallest noise would wake her daughter up in nearly an instant and she'd climb down the ladder to make sure her sister was alright. Despite being with them for five years Clarke knew she still felt like she always had to protect her sister and that overwhelming need wasn't likely to ever go away. For her part Skylar slept peacefully, without a care in the world with a line of stuffed animals between her and the wall, Doggie tucked firmly in the crook of her arm.  
  
For long seconds that drew out into minutes Clarke stood there, staring at her daughters. She thought of the weeks after they'd been adopted when she and Lexa would stand in the doorway and just watch them sleep. Had the Hartfords done that with their sons after they were born? Had they spent hours just staring at their babies, silently promising to protect them forever? She wasn't sure she wanted to know, but the questions nagged at her mind even so, constantly swirling. Finally she broke through their power and stepped forward, brushing gentle kisses to her daughters' foreheads and murmuring quiet goodnights.  
  
In Calvin's room the questions returned again and she did the same thing, just standing next to his bed and staring for longer than usual. He slept on his stomach, one arm under the pillow while the other rested against Pauna, probably having fallen asleep as he scratched her ears. She and Lexa had never been able to keep the dog from his room at night, honestly had never even tried all that hard, and now it was a common sight to see boy and dog sharing his bed. Clarke wondered if there was a dog at the Hartford house right now, and if it knew its boy was gone. A burn beginning to fizzle in the back of her throat, the mother finally leaned down and pressed her lips lightly to the young teen's forehead, whispering a soft goodnight to him. She gave Pauna a light scratch behind her ear, the dog's stumpy tail wagging slightly but her eyes not opening, and then she forced herself to leave the room.  
  
In her own bedroom, Clarke found the lamp on Lexa's bedside table on, pouring a soft warm glow into the room. The brunette laid in bed with her body turned away from the light, and from the steady rise and fall of her body Clarke knew she was asleep. The doctor ached to climb into bed with her, to burrow herself into the curve of Lexa's body and use it to shield herself from the outside world but instead she turned and walked quietly to their bathroom, closing the door behind her. Before she could hide from the world she needed a shower, needed to wash this miserable day off of her. She reached up and tore the hair tie from the ponytail she tended to wear at work, letting her hair fall down around her shoulders and tossed it to the side, not caring where it landed. Without thought she stripped, letting her clothes fall into a pile on the floor that she ignored, and then she was stepping into the shower before reaching out and turning the water on.  
  
Icy drops pounded against her skin, and where normally she would quickly retreat away from them, tonight she let them hit her. She reached out to turn up the temperature but didn't shy away, didn't let the freezing cold move her. As the temperature ever so slowly increased, she wondered if Ryan's skin was this cold yet. It wasn't, it hadn't been long enough for his body's core temperature to drop more than a few degrees, but the thought made her shudder and turn the handle even further to get the water to heat faster. It did, and soon what had once been icy drops burned, turning her pale skin a soft pink.  
  
Clarke didn't reach for the shampoo or her body wash. She didn't think about cleaning her hair or slathering soap on a wash cloth; all she did was stand under the hot spray and think, and as the thoughts played in her mind the exhaustion she'd felt for over an hour grew and shifted, slowly morphing into the pain she'd always known it was meant to be. Part of her wanted to push back against it, wanted to keep herself from falling into its pit but a much larger part knew it was no use; her pain was real and it was powerful and there was no hiding from it. Her throat burned hotter than the water pelting down on her and her chin trembled. She bit the inside of her cheek and then winced, re-opening the spot she'd made bleed earlier in surgery. She'd forgotten all about it until this moment when she felt the sharp sting followed by the metallic taste of blood and the taste only made her throat burn hotter. The smell of iron suddenly surrounded her despite her clean bathroom and for a second the water sliding down her fingers was a young boy's blood and she just couldn't stop the bleeding.  
  
A whimper echoing off the walls of the shower was her own and she stepped back until her back lightly hit the wall. Her arms came up, wrapping across her front as though she might be able to hold herself together and then she was slowly slipping down the wall. The water continued to rain down on her but now she sat in the large tub, her legs folding up to press her knees against her elbows. She shook her head to try to push away the images of Ryan Hartford on her operating table and when that failed she let her head fall forward, resting against her knees.  
“Clarke?” she suddenly heard called, her name nearly lost beneath the pelting of the water around her. She cleared her throat, hoping to control it before she spoke, and then called back, “Go back to bed Lexa, I'll be out in a couple of minutes.” She listened, thinking maybe it had worked and she would be able to fall apart alone, but a few long seconds later fingers curled around the shower curtain to pull it back and she saw her wife standing in front of her in a t-shirt and pair of loose shorts. The water must have been too loud for her to hear the bathroom door open so now she just looked up, reading the immediate flash of concern on her wife's face when she found her on the floor of the tub.  
  
“Clarke,” Lexa let out in a breath, her eyes scanning her wife's curled up body and something about the absolute care and concern in those green eyes finally pushed the blonde over the edge. Her control crumbled and her shoulders shook as the first sob finally found its release. Suddenly there was no way to know whether the water streaming down her cheeks came from the shower faucet or her tear ducts and she just curled into herself even further. Her chin pressed against her chest and her forehead pressed against her knees and she felt herself fall apart, the pain of watching a child die in front of her washing over her so much more forcefully than the spray from the shower could.  
  
She heard the movement before she felt it, heard it as Lexa stepped into the tub and sank down beside her and then felt it as strong arms pulled her close. Part of her wanted to fight it, wanted to shield Lexa from this hurt because she didn't want it to hit anyone else but she couldn't and didn't even try. Instead she melted into her wife, let her body unfurl and let Lexa's arms be the strength that held her together. Lexa's body rocked and she rocked along with it, her back pressed against the brunette's front. Through the contact she could feel Lexa's pajamas, the shirt and shorts she'd put on for bed but apparently hadn't thought to take off before stepping into the shower with Clarke, and the feeling of the soaked fabric had the blonde twisting in her hold, just enough so she could press her forehead to Lexa's shoulder. Suddenly Lexa's lips were near her ear whispering soft assurances even though she didn't know what had caused this breakdown and Clarke fell into them, fell into her. Lexa held her and they rocked and Clarke's body shook as she let her pain rage through her and then fall down her cheeks as the hot water fell around them.  
  
Neither had any idea how long they stayed like that, Lexa's back pressed against the end of the tub and Clarke's back pressed against Lexa's chest. They stayed like that, moving only through the brunette's swaying, and Clarke clung to the arms around her middle until the pain that had festered inside her lungs and chest seemed finally to have migrated on. The dull ache of it remained but its burn snuffed out like the wick of a candle and the blonde felt like maybe she could move again without feeling the weight of a seven-year-old's life pressing down on her. Even so they didn't move, didn't get up or say anything and Clarke shifted a little, just enough to turn so she could press her forehead against Lexa's cheek.  
  
“What happened?” she heard Lexa whispered softly as one arm uncurled from her middle so she could run fingers gently down the blonde's arm. Some fresh, actually physical pain radiated from the soft movement and she looked down to see a few scratches on her arm, ones she hadn't noticed until this moment. Looking at the other arm she found a few more, none of them serious though it was clear at least a couple had bled when they first appeared. Letting out a long, heavy sigh she sank back against her wife, letting her head roll back to Lexa's shoulder.  
  
“I lost a little boy today,” she answered, closing her eyes and trying to lose herself to Lexa's touch. “He was only seven. Apparently he and his little brother found their father's gun and were playing with it and it went off twice. I tried to save him but...” Evidently the pain hadn't been entirely cried out as a fresh, fighting burn crawled up her throat but she swallowed thickly, trying to douse it. “I couldn't. When I told his family he was gone the mother couldn't take it. We had to sedate and admit her. I hadn't realized she'd scratched me.”  
  
For a second Lexa remained quiet behind her, probably soaking the story in, and then Clarke felt the arm still around her middle tighten though the fingers running along her arm didn't change in speed or pressure. “I'm so sorry my love,” Lexa whispered against her ear and the blonde could hear the pain she hadn't wanted to spread in her voice. Clarke just shook her head, unable to even begin to find any words, and Lexa's lips brushed lightly against her neck. “It wasn't your fault,” she murmured, holding onto Clarke as though if she held her close enough she might be able to shield them both from a world where they knew tragedies like this one were all too common. “You tried to save him.”  
  
“But I couldn't,” the blonde replied, her tone not one of self-loathing but just sounding tired. Lexa's cheek rested against her shoulder, green eyes staring knowingly at her wife. “Could anyone have?” Clarke thought about it for a second, wondering, but then shrugged. “I don't know,” she answered truthfully. “Maybe if he'd gotten to the hospital sooner or we'd been able to do a transfusion earlier...”  
  
“It sounds like there was nothing more you could do,” Lexa murmured. “His death isn't your fault but the fault of the person who left a loaded gun somewhere young children could get to it.”  
  
“I know,” the blonde whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as she pressed back against Lexa a little more firmly. “I do. I still just-” She shook her head, unable to find the words but her wife didn't need them. The fingers running along her arm stopped and then she had both arms holding her middle again and Lexa was pressing soft kisses to her shoulder. “I know Clarke. I get it.”  
  
“I just... I can't stop picturing Skylar on that table instead of Ryan,” the blonde finally admitted, her voice so small and so scared she wondered if Lexa could even hear it. “She's just about his age, and I just keep thinking what if it was her, what if she was the one bleeding out like that?”  
  
“Stop,” Lexa ordered, her tone commanding and very Marine-esque, one she wasn't sure she'd ever used with Clarke before. She understood what it was like imagining a loved one into the horrors she'd seen, and her heart began beating quickly at just that thought. “It wasn't Sky,” she continued, her tone softening. “It wasn't Tris or Calvin either, all of our children are safe in their beds. Our family is safe, Clarke. We're all here and none of us are going anywhere.” She felt her wife nod against her but knew her words would never be able to just knock those images away. “Come on,” she murmured, lips returning to press lightly against Clarke's skin. “Let's get to bed. I'm too young for the wrinkles this water is giving me.” She could see the corner of the blonde's lips curl up as she shot her a look and then she nodded.  
  
Clarke moved first, sliding forward just enough to give Lexa space to move as well, and then they stood together, the brunette reaching around the blonde to turn off the water. They stepped out of the shower and then Clarke was shaking her head, giving Lexa a look as her clothes dripped steadily on the floor. The blonde helped her pull the soaked garments off and then found them both towels, and soon they were moving back into their room and turning the bathroom light off behind them. Clarke made her way over to their bureau, Lexa behind her and her arms still wrapped around her, and pulled out two long t-shirts. Together they dried off to the best of their abilities and tossed the towels back into the bathroom to be dealt with in the morning. Dressed in only the t-shirts, the two got into bed and slipped beneath the covers, Lexa taking just enough time to turn off her lamp before she had her arms wrapped back around her wife.  
  
“Lexa?” Clarke's voice murmured softly in the dark, and the brunette pressed forward, leaving yet another kiss against her shoulder. “Yes Clarke?”  
  
“Could we let the kids stay home tomorrow? I know it's supposed to be a school day and you probably have plans to go to the center, but... do you think we could all just play hooky for a day? I just... I just really need to spend some time with my family.”  
  
It wasn't difficult for Lexa to find her wife's mouth even in the dark, and as soon as she stopped speaking her lips were against the blonde's, swallowing the request with a long, soft kiss.  
  
“I think that's a great idea, Clarke,” she answered when the kiss finally ended. “I'll call the schools in the morning to let them know they won't be there and then I'll call Ryder. We'll spend the day together.”  
  
Clarke nodded, a knot loosening in her chest she hadn't known was there, and then she closed her eyes as she let her body sink into Lexa's. A family day was exactly what the doctor needed, and she loved that Lexa knew that and immediately jumped on board; she really had married the perfect woman.

***

_A Few Days Later_

Lexa rubbed at her temples as she stood at the sink, trying to get bits of last night's dinner out of the pots and pans they'd left on the stove. She'd known she was going to regret not letting them soak over night but the kids had been with her father and she and Clarke were having a date night. At the time, Clarke's lips had been far more important than worrying about casserole crusting along the edges of its pan. The corners of her lips curled up just a bit, thinking back to exactly how well that date night had gone and knew she'd made the right choice, she was just a little cranky at the moment due to the headache that had been growing along her temples for the past hour. A nap would probably help but unfortunately school had ended nearly two hours ago and not only were her own kids around but so were Emma and Jonas. At the moment she could hear all five of them in the living room, the noise from their video game easily echoing into the kitchen.  
  
“Guys can you turn that down a little?” she called, glancing over her shoulder towards the doorway. “There's no way you need it that loud.”  
  
“Sorry Ma,” she heard Calvin call back and then it did turn down though just barely. She let out a sigh as she shook her head but got back to dealing with her dishes, muttering to them as she did. “I will get you clean whether you like it or not.”  
  
Fifteen minutes later she was drying her hands and smirking to herself at the perfectly clean pots and pans laid out on towels on the counter as the water finally drained from the sink. Tucking the towel back through the handle of the oven, she looked over to the door leading to the living room again when she heard what sounded like a small explosion and then cheering. Quirking an eyebrow at all the noise she made her way over and leaned against the door frame.  
  
Skylar sat on the floor, a coloring book in front of her with a number of crayons but she didn't seem particularly interested in it, instead watching the figures moving around on the screen. Pauna laid across the room leaning against the wall, looking as though she were asleep though as Lexa watched she saw the dog's eyes open, peer around the room, and then close again. Emma and Calvin shared the couch, Calvin with a controller in his hands and Emma just watched, clearly caught somewhere between faking an interest and very bored. Tris and Jonas were each in a chair, also both holding a controller and they appeared to be fully invested in the game. The game was one Auntie Raven had gotten Calvin for his last birthday and as far as Lexa could tell really only consisted of shooting people, both the other characters in the game and each other.  
  
“Better watch out Tris, I'm gonna get ya,” Jonas baited, a big grin on his face as he stared at the screen. The girl's eyes narrowed but she didn't look away from her corner of the TV, telling him, “Just try it; we'll see who gets the first shot in.”  
  
“You do realize you're both losing right?” Emma asked, shooting her brother and Tris a look. “Cal's got way more kills than either of you.” Calvin just smirked and a second later his character's gun fired again and they all heard the theatrical sound effect of someone getting hit by a bullet and going down.  
  
Lexa shifted where she stood, for some reason feeling uneasy. Neither she or Clarke had been entirely impressed with Raven's gift but had decided to let it go and let Calvin play it, knowing they'd both also played similar style video games when they were his age. She wasn't entirely sure she liked Tris playing it and she really wasn't happy Sky was in the room too, but whatever this feeling was felt like it was more than just thinking they were too young for it. The feeling wasn't any clearer than that and she really couldn't decipher it any better, she just knew something about this felt off to her. Deciding she would analyze whatever it was later, she pushed off of the door frame and stepped down into the room.  
  
“Hey guys,” she greeted and Emma was the only one to look over to her, the other four all still glued to the TV. She raised an eyebrow but let it go and moved over to the couch, plopping down on the other side of Emma. “You've been playing this game for a while.”  
  
“It's fun,” Calvin replied, only looking away from the screen long enough to flash her a smile. “We like it.”  
  
“Go go go!” Tris exclaimed, leaning forward in her chair while Jonas frantically pressed some buttons on his controller. “Run dude, run!” His character apparently wasn't able to run fast enough because the next moment Tris's shot and his fell to the ground. He let out a loud groan as his head fell back against his chair, waiting for his screen to reload. “Told ya I'd get ya,” Tris goaded him, a smug grin on her face. He made a face at her and went right back to the game as soon as his character was once again on the screen.  
  
Watching it all, Lexa made a decision. “Alright guys, I think it's time for something else,” she stated as she stood up, hands going to her hips. “Why don't we find a game to play?”  
  
Tris's expression scrunched up, not looking over at her mother. “Why? We're playing a game already.” Lexa raised an eyebrow, a little annoyed she couldn't look away from the TV long enough to even argue with her. “Because you've been playing this game for a while and it's time to find something different. Something everyone can do.” She glanced down at Skylar on the floor, still entranced by the screen. “And because I really don't think this game is appropriate for your sister to be watching.”  
  
“But I like it, Mama,” the six-year-old protested, big eyes looking up at the mother. She'd learned over the years that those big eyes could get her just about anything, but in this Lexa wasn't going to budge. “You might like it, but that still doesn't make it appropriate.”  
  
No one moved to turn off the game or even really indicated they'd been listening and the brunette grit her jaw. She knew she was about to turn into the parent everyone hated but she had to go there: without saying another word she moved over to the TV and pressed the power button along its side. The screen went black and suddenly three pairs of bewildered eyes turned on her.  
  
“Why'd you do that?!” Tris demanded, glaring at her. “I was gonna get another shot,” Jonas whined, sighing in despair. Calvin didn't say anything but the glare he shot at his mother was all she needed to know she'd probably just lost the Mother of the Year award.  
  
“I told you guys, find something else to do,” she told them firmly, not crumbling beneath their looks. “You've been playing this long enough.” Looking down at Skylar she jerked her head, gesturing to the door leading to the garage. “Sky, how about we go throw the ball for Pauna? Look, she's feeling lonely.” The moment she heard the word “ball” the dog's head perked up and she looked up at the mother, flashing her a big doggie grin. Skylar sighed but nodded and pushed herself up, her own lips turning up into a small smile as Pauna sauntered over to her and butted her head against the girl's side.  
  
Jonas watched Pauna join Skylar and then looked up at Lexa, asking, “If Sky's outside can we play the game?” The youngest girl frowned at that, obviously feeling left out, and Tris shot a glare at her best friend who immediately looked sheepish. Lexa simply rose her eyebrows, telling them evenly, “No. You guys can take a break from the game. Find something else.” Jonas nodded, apparently knowing better than to try to argue anymore, while Calvin sighed and Emma shrugged. As Lexa led Skylar and the dog outside she heard the four older kids start arguing over what to do next. Shaking her head as a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, Lexa left them to figure out what to do without their beloved video game.  
  
Hours later after Jonas and Emma had left and her kids had gone to bed, that feeling of uneasiness lingered in Lexa's gut as she sat up in bed, half listening to whatever Clarke was saying. The blonde had gotten home early enough to make dinner with Tris and help all three kids with their homework and then the two mothers had lazed around for a couple of hours before making their way to their own bedroom, and during that entire time Lexa had been thinking. It had taken a while for her to identify why she had such a problem with the video game all of a sudden, but now she'd figured it out and come up with a solution. A solution she knew without a doubt Clarke was not going to like, and so was trying to wait for the right time to bring it up.  
  
“Bellamy and Echo and the baby are visiting O this weekend,” Clarke was saying, and Lexa focused her attention back on her wife. “I invited them over on Saturday. Figured we could do something for lunch since we haven't seen them for a while.” Pajama pants were pulled up pale legs and the brunette watched them go, hating them for a second for hiding Clarke's skin from her. The other woman turned around from where she was standing on the other side of the room and must have seen where Lexa's eyes had lingered since she gave the brunette a knowing look, a small smirk forming. “We'll need to get the baby gate out of the attic though; Bellamy says now that River has figured out what her legs are for she never stops.”  
  
“I can get it down tomorrow,” Lexa agreed, giving her a little nod and Clarke flashed a smile back at her. “Even with it though you know Bellamy isn't going to let her go more than a foot or two away from him.” The blonde let out what sounded suspiciously like a snort as she raised her eyebrows and grinned. To absolutely no one's surprise Bellamy was the definition of over protective father, hardly ever letting his thirteen-month-old daughter out of his sight. That amused no one more than it did Echo, who had started posting daily “Over Protective Father” pictures to social media for everyone to see. Lexa hadn't been expecting it when the two started dating a few months after Echo had moved to Arkadia, but she had to admit they made a good looking family.  
  
“You are so right,” Clarke said before she flopped down on the bed on her back, now staring up at the ceiling. She let out a long sigh, her eyes closing. “Sometimes I think he was born to be a father and others I wonder what the universe was thinking, giving him a daughter. I always thought he was protective of Octavia but that's nothing compared to what he's like with River. I feel bad for the first person she tries to date.” She thought for a second, her head tilting to the side, and then added, “And every person after, actually.”  
  
Lexa's lips pulled up into a thin smile. “Luckily they both have a few years still to prepare for that obstacle. And by then maybe he will have calmed down some.” Clarke's head tilted back, flashing her a look and the brunette shrugged. “Or not.”  
  
“Hey, I'm still waiting for the day Calvin comes home and tells us he's dating someone,” Clarke replied evenly. Fighting against a grin and losing, she continued, “I still have twenty bucks down saying you're not gonna take it well.” Lexa lifted her chin up, meeting blue eyes evenly despite the twitch she could feel at the corner of her lips. “I look forward to winning that twenty.” Clarke scoffed again, shaking her head this time as she rolled over onto her stomach, tucking her arms beneath her chin to prop her head up.  
  
Seeing her wife like this, Lexa thought this may be as good a time as any to get her thoughts out. She hesitated for just a second, knowing full well Clarke wasn't going to like what she had to say, but then pushed forward anyway.  
  
“The kids were playing the game Raven got Calvin for his birthday this afternoon,” she started, hoping to ease into her idea by changing the conversation. Clarke rolled her eyes, her grin falling away into annoyance. “Gotta say, I'm still not impressed she got him that. I know he's thirteen and growing up but he still seems young for it. And Tris and Skylar are _definitely_ too young to play it.”  
  
“Well Skylar wasn't playing it,” Lexa reassured her, and then admitted, “Though she was watching. And Tris was playing.” Clarke didn't look entirely happy but she just shrugged. “Maybe we should talk to them all, remind them that game isn't appropriate for the girls. It's going to piss off Tris though.”  
  
Lexa nodded, though at the moment Tris wasn't the one she was concerned about pissing off. Nevertheless she powered through, saying hesitantly, “The game actually got me thinking...” She trailed off and Clarke looked at her, lifting one eyebrow as though telling her to continue so Lexa did, deciding to bite the bullet and just get her thoughts out. “I don't like that their only real, and I use that term loosely in this case, association with guns is that video game. Well, video games and movies, I guess. I don't like that they see these characters get shot and then come back to life in a few seconds. It's not... right.”  
  
Clarke pushed herself up slowly, frowning a little as she eyed Lexa, clearly trying to read whatever was on her mind. Only once she was sitting up did she break the short silence, saying, “Okay. So what do you want to do about it?” Lexa bit her lip, a nervous habit she'd long ago picked up from her wife, and watched Clarke carefully as she replied, “I want to teach them how to properly handle a gun. I was thinking I would take them to the shooting range this weekend and show them what it's like to hold a real gun instead of just a controller for a game.”  
  
There was a second or two of silence while the two women stared at each other, and when it came Clarke's refusal was cold and absolute.  
  
“No,” she just said, her voice hard. “Absolutely not.” Lexa's eyes widened; while she certainly hadn't been expecting a positive reaction, Clarke's expression and the tone in her voice shocked her nevertheless. She opened her mouth to say something but the blonde was busy shaking her head and didn't appear to notice. “You are not taking them anywhere near a shooting range and you are definitely not giving them a loaded gun. What are you _thinking_ , Lexa? How can you want to do that?”  
  
“I'm _thinking_ they should all know how to act around a live weapon, Clarke,” the brunette responded, trying not to take her wife's tone personally. She knew the other woman's aversion to weapons and guns especially, but she didn't back down. “They should be familiar with guns so that they know how to safely use one if they ever have to.”  
  
“They're never going to have to!” Clarke cried, jumping up from the bed and to Lexa it looked almost like she now towered over the mattress. Her clenched fists shook down at her sides but she didn't appear to notice it, too busy burning holes through the brunette's skull with her withering glare. “There is no reason any of them ever need to be around any guns!”  
  
“Clarke,” Lexa tried, standing up as well though her hands reached out gently as though the motion might help calm her furious wife. The gesture did nothing but maybe make the blonde even more mad as she stepped back roughly, purposefully putting herself outside the length of Lexa's reach. “I'm sorry, but that's foolish. Guns are a part of our world. Maybe not our family's every day life, but it's very likely that any one of our children could encounter them at some point as they grow up. If they do, they need to know how to safely be around them.”  
  
“The safest way to deal with guns is to stay away from them!” Clarke nearly shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. She then pointed at Lexa, telling her furiously, “I know that! I see it all the time! Do you have any idea how many people I've operated on because of guns? You _know_ Lexa, you know!” Her hands began shaking again, but this time she stepped forward, invading her wife's space but the brunette didn't step back, didn't retreat. She stood her ground, suddenly feeling very much like a soldier refusing to give up their ground in the face of an enemy who could crush them. “Four days ago. Four _days_ , I operated on and lost a seven-year-old. He was _seven_ , and he died from two gunshot wounds!”  
  
“But that's exactly my point, Clarke,” Lexa nearly begged, wanting her to understand. “Your patient was a young boy who died because he and his brother weren't taught how to act around guns. Maybe they too had only ever seen them in movies or games and thought it was a toy. There are so many other problems with what happened to him but that is one of them, Clarke!”  
  
“Our kids know not to play with real guns,” the blonde got out from between clenched teeth, and Lexa could see fury and pain battling for dominance in blue eyes that practically burned in the low light. She'd seen Clarke mad before, maybe even this mad, but there was an awe-inspiring terror that still managed to creep up her spine whenever she saw it. Despite that she held firm, refusing to back down. This was too important, meant far too much to give in to just because her wife was angry.  
  
“Maybe they do,” she agreed softly with a small nod. “But just knowing not to play with them isn't enough.” Clarke's jaw clenched and Lexa let out an aggravated sigh. “Guns are not inherently bad, Clarke!” she growled, now pushed passed trying to keep her own anger from growing. It pooled in her stomach and then began the slow crawl up her spine, burning away the terror her wife caused. “You act as though they're these terrible things!”  
  
“Guns kill people, Lexa,” Clarke growled right back, eyes flashing and the brunette shook her head roughly. “Guns are just tools, Clarke, like anything else,” she argued. “Yes, they can kill people, but so can anything else.” She looked around a little frantically, trying to find something to help prove her point, and found the framed picture of the two of them on their wedding day that hung on the wall opposite their bed. Pointing to it, she said, “That picture frame could be used to kill someone, and we have dozens of them hanging up throughout the house!”  
  
She knew it was a bad example, and was already shaking her head when Clarke bit back, “Yeah well I've had many more people wheeled into my operating room because of bullet wounds than because they were attacked with a picture frame!” Lexa had to physically bite her tongue to keep herself from throwing some kind of retort back, and ended up closing her eyes and forcing herself to take a few deep breaths. When her eyes opened again Clarke was still only a few feet in front of her, a scorching glare turned on her.  
  
“I didn't want to start a fight,” the brunette said, making sure her tone was even and controlled, though even she could hear the cool undertone to it. “I think it's important for our children to understand the reality of guns and how to safely use one. I was hoping you would understand but it's alright if you don't. I'm still going to talk to them about this tomorrow, and this weekend I'm going to take them to the shooting range.”  
  
Clarke's nostrils flared, her fists trembled and her eyes scanned across Lexa's face, probably looking for a way to win this fight. “They're too young,” she told her but the brunette just gave a little shrug. “I was younger than Tris is now when I learned how to fire a gun.” Apparently the other woman couldn't think of a come back to that, though Lexa could see her desperately trying to, could practically see her mind racing, and then Clarke shook her head. Without a word she stomped over to her side of the bed and grabbed her pillow and Lexa's brow furrowed, confused. The blonde turned around so her back was to her wife and then shot back as she made her way to the door, “I'm sleeping on the couch tonight.” With that Clarke left the room, pulling the door closed again behind her and Lexa was pretty sure the only thing that kept her from slamming it was their three sleeping children just down the hall.  
  
For a long second Lexa stared at the closed door, her eyes wide and mind a little numb. In all their years of marriage she could count on one hand the number of nights one of them spent on the couch, and most of those hadn't gone the full night anyway. More often than not after a few hours the angry party in the living room would make her way back to their bed, crawling in beside the other person and murmuring a sweet or gruff apology depending on how they were feeling by that point. By the time morning came around it always ended with the two just as entangled as any other night, pillows shared and legs pressed together. She wanted this to be like any of those nights, though honestly what she really wanted was for the door to open in the next moment and Clarke to slip back in looking a little sheepish for having lost her temper so badly. Despite how long Lexa stared at the door though it didn't open, and she didn't hear any footsteps on the other side of it to make her think it would.  
  
Finally letting out a long, dejected sigh, the brunette turned back to the bed, glaring at it. Alone it looked huge, far too big for just one person, and Lexa wondered if maybe it would swallow her up when she got back in. It didn't as she slipped back beneath the covers, it remained as nothing more than a mattress, blankets and a few pillows, but still it didn't feel right. Clenching her jaw and trying to ignore just how alone she felt, she turned and switched off her lamp before laying down. As she pulled the covers over her shoulders she stared up at the dark ceiling, entirely aware she wouldn't be able to fall asleep for a long while. She just hoped in that time the door would creak open and Clarke would slip back to her. They would both apologize and then hold each other, and maybe this ache suddenly pounding in Lexa's chest would go away.  
  
She could only hope. 

***

_A Few Days Later_

At the sound of the doorbell, Pauna took off from where she'd been laying at Clarke's feet, letting out a little _buff_ as she quickly trotted through the kitchen and to the front door. Skylar jumped up from the blonde's lap to follow right along after the dog, grinning from ear to ear and the mother quickly joined them, leaving the book she'd been reading to her youngest daughter lying on the couch. The six-year-old excitedly reached for the doorknob, pulling it open, and Clarke found one of her oldest friends standing on her doorstep, his lips curled up into their usual half smirk. Thirteen-month-old River balanced on her father's hip, the little fingers of one hand tucked securely into Bellamy's floppy hair as she eyed this new place. Echo stood beside her boyfriend and daughter, a diaper bag that looked like it might be carrying a few tons of supplies slung casually over her shoulder.  
  
“Uncle Bellamy!” Skylar cried, smiling brightly up at him before she looked over at the baby. “Wow River got really big.” Moving right along, she flashed her big smile to the woman and added, “Hi Echo!”  
  
“Hi Skylar,” Echo replied, giving her a smile right back as the young girl moved over just enough for them to come into the house. Bellamy reached out and ruffled her hair lightly, making her giggle, and then looked up at her mother. “Hey Clarke, good to see you. Thanks for inviting us over.” His grin grew a little, something twinkling in his eye as he added, “We've only been at Octavia's for a day and I'm already feeling a little nuts. There really shouldn't be that many people in one house.”  
  
Clarke returned his grin, telling him, “You're welcome, though there's almost as many people here.” Pauna nuzzled up against her thigh and the blonde gave her a look. “There's more even, if you count Pauna and Panther.” The dog licked lightly at her fingertips as she tried to pet her, as though wondering how anyone could not count them and Clarke shook her head at the silly animal that was her first baby.  
  
“Yeah well there's a difference between your house and hers,” Bellamy told her as he stepped further inside. “I love my nieces and nephews, but Andy and Liv definitely have O's energy.” Clarke nodded, entirely aware of how much the twins took after their mother, and turned around to lead the way into the kitchen. “Trust me, I totally get it.”  
  
As the group filtered in to the room, Echo looked around. “Where are Heda and the kids? Are they ready?” Clarke didn't look back at them, trying to keep her tone perfectly even as she replied, “They're upstairs. Should be down any time.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see the other woman nod before she pulled the strap of the diaper bag from over her shoulder, setting it down on the island. “Alright well then Blake hand over my daughter.” Bellamy grudgingly handed River over to her and Clarke watched as the mother and daughter grinned at each other, the baby babbling at her the entire time. The hard knot she'd felt in her chest ever since she woke up that morning loosened just a little at the sight. Sitting on one of the stools, she pulled Skylar over to her and hoisted her up on her lap, grunting a little as she did.  
  
“Sky you're getting way too big,” she muttered and when her daughter turned a little to look at her she gave her a small smile. “Do me a favor and stop growing up so fast.” The little girl giggled and shook her head roughly. “I don't wanna stop growing Mumma! I wanna get big so I can go on adventures like Tris and Cal.” Clarke's arms tightened just a bit around her middle and her grin fell a little, possibly too quickly for anyone to really notice.  
  
For the past three days she and Lexa had argued about this “adventure”, and while Clarke couldn't convince her wife going to the shooting range was a bad idea she could at least put her foot down about Skylar being involved and had. Lexa hadn't argued about that part of it too hard, possibly thinking the same thing or at least willing to give the blonde something, and when Sky had found out her siblings were going somewhere without her she'd pouted and flashed her big hazel eyes at her parents. Clarke had refused to bend, and in the end the only thing that had appeased the little girl was the reminder she'd get to play with River and Uncle Bellamy while Calvin and Tris were gone.  
  
“We'll have our own adventures today,” she promised before pressing a loud kiss to her cheek and making the little girl's nose scrunch up as she shook her head playfully. Bellamy winked at her and nodded. “Oh, definitely.” That made Sky beam, happy to at least be doing _something_ fun.  
  
Three sets of foot steps coming from the hallway made Bellamy and Echo look up, but Clarke kept her eyes on her youngest daughter for a second longer, the knot in her chest re-forming to its full strength. When she did look she found Calvin and Tris entering the room, Tris grinning excitedly and Cal standing calmly beside her, with Lexa stopped right behind them. Blue eyes flicked down to the case Lexa held easily in one hand, and suddenly it was hard to swallow past the swirl of emotions she felt. The brunette's handgun was locked securely inside she knew, along with all the ammo they would need for their outing, and Clarke hated it. She could feel Lexa's eyes on her but she didn't meet them as she just stared for a moment at the case.  
  
“Hey there you three,” Echo greeted them, turning around with her daughter still in her arms. “You ready?”  
  
“Yup,” Tris agreed happily, practically bouncing on her feet. “Let's go!” Calvin just nodded beside her. Skylar slipped down off of her mother's lap to run over to the other one and grabbed the brunette's pant leg, turning her big eyes up at her. “Are you _sure_ I can't go?”  
  
“Yes we're sure,” Clarke answered for Lexa, still not looking at her wife. Instead she followed Skylar over to them and stopped in front of Tris and Calvin. Giving them both a look, she told them seriously, “You two listen to your mother, got it? Absolutely no fooling around, and you do whatever she or Echo tells you to.” Tris rolled her eyes and she thought she saw Calvin let out a silent sigh, as though she were telling them something so obvious they didn't know why she was bothering, but both nodded.  
  
“We will Mum,” Calvin told her, and then hugged her back briefly when she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Tris returned the hold as well, muttering a quiet, “Duh,” as she did.  
  
At any other time, Clarke probably would have smiled a little at her ten-year-old's attitude, but today she was too focused to do so. She finally looked up, immediately meeting Lexa's eyes and finding green watching her even as her hand lay gently against Skylar's shoulder. Clarke could see understanding in those eyes, an understanding she kind of hated at this moment, but she didn't say anything about it. She wondered for a second if Lexa could read her silent warning to keep their babies safe but when her wife gave a subtle nod she knew she could. Clarke returned it and then stepped back, taking Skylar with her.  
  
While the Griffin-Woods family split off into two groups Echo shifted River back over to Bellamy, giving her daughter a few kisses before pulling away. “We'll be back before long. She's got a bottle in the bag and a few other snacks packed away,” she informed him as they switched the baby over. “But she ate at Octavia's before we left, so she shouldn't be hungry for at least another hour or two.”  
  
“I know,” Bellamy said with a nod, returning his daughter's grin when she looked up at him. “She should be fine, but I packed a B-A-N-A-N-A-S. If she wants a snack, I'll give her some of that.” Echoed smirked, her eyes soft as she looked at her baby, and replied, “Yep, that'll keep her happy.”  
  
“Mommy!” River called out with a happy laugh, her arms stretching out towards her mother, and Echo grinned before giving her another kiss to her forehead. “Be good for Daddy,” she told the baby as Bellamy bounced her lightly and she just shrieked, looking up at him. The mother gave them both one last look and then turned and followed Lexa and the two older kids out of the house to start on their adventure. Clarke forced herself not to watch them go, fully aware the gnawing she felt in her gut was nothing but a foolish kind of worry she shouldn't be feeling but unable to do anything to alleviate it. Instead she decided to ignore it and turned her focus back to Bellamy and the two girls, gesturing towards the living room and leading the way in.  
  
For a while she and Bellamy played with Skylar and River. They got Skylar's old blocks out and built towers that River liked to knock over, always giggling as they tumbled to the floor. Sky let the baby chase her around and then brought down some of her stuffed animals, though when River began chewing on an elephant's ear the six-year-old quickly took her favorites and moved them where the baby couldn't reach them, something that didn't seem to bother River at all since she still had the elephant. At Skylar's insistence Bellamy gave her a piggy back ride all throughout the first floor and Clarke grinned as she listened to her youngest daughter's laughter, following behind with River at a much slower rate as the baby tried to keep up with her father on legs that hadn't been walking for much more than a month. Finally Clarke put _Lilo and Stitch_ in, Skylar's favorite movie, and before long River had fallen asleep with Sky looking like she wouldn't be far behind. Only about twenty minutes into the movie, Clarke and Bellamy left the kids in the living room and migrated to the kitchen.  
  
“You know, I never fully appreciated nap time until River came along,” Bellamy remarked lightly as he sat at the island, flashing his smirk at the blonde. “And now it's one of the best times of the day.”  
  
Clarke returned the smirk, letting out a little chuckle as she moved over to the cupboard to grab a cup. “It's definitely not given enough credit,” she agreed, and then looked back at him over her shoulder. “Thirsty? Want some water?”  
  
“Sure,” he said with a nod and she grabbed a second cup before moving over to the sink and turning the cold water on. As she filled both cups she saw him yawn out of the corner of her eye and joked, “What's the matter Bellamy, fatherhood more exhausting than you thought it would be?”  
  
“Yes,” he answered immediately, nodding a silent thank you to her as she handed him one of the cups. As she sank into the stool beside him, he added, “I mean, I knew it was going to be hard and everyone tells you that, but you're still not ready for it. She's more than a year old and I'm still figuring out this dad thing.”  
  
Clarke scoffed as she took a sip of water, just managing not to choke on it. “Please, Cal's thirteen and I'm still learning the mom thing.”  
  
“I have more respect for Octavia and Lincoln now than I ever have before,” Bellamy said with a shake of his head. “It's hard enough with just the one, I can't even imagine having four kids.” Gesturing to the blonde, he added, “Or three like you. You and Lexa are pretty damn impressive.”  
  
At her wife's name, thoughts about where the other woman and their two oldest kids were at the moment came rushing back, and she felt her lips purse. “Mm,” she just got out, staring down at her cup and trying not to think about it.  
  
Bellamy studied her for a second, his goofy expression falling away as he read whatever it was that suddenly flashed across her face. He knew Clarke nearly as well as anyone, and definitely knew when something wasn't right. He thought he noticed it earlier when the others were leaving but hadn't been entirely sure, but now there was no question that something was off. He waited for a moment to see if she'd say anything, and then tried, “So... wanna talk about it?”  
  
That snapped the blonde's attention back to him and she looked up, clearly trying to hide whatever was going on behind a blank expression. “What do you mean?”  
  
“Don't even try it, Clarke,” he told her, giving her an amused look. “I know you nearly as well as my own sister; something's going on with you and Lexa and I know it. You're really not that great at hiding how you're feeling.”  
  
She scowled, but didn't say anything for a minute, refusing to immediately give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right. He just kept staring at her though, even going so far as to raise an eyebrow at her, and finally she rolled her eyes. “You're not exactly good at it either,” she muttered and he grinned, telling her, “Yeah I know, but right now I'm not the one pretending everything's fine when I'm obviously pissed about something. Now talk.” She sighed but then begrudgingly gave in.  
  
“We've been fighting for the past few days,” she admitted, and that surprised him enough that his grin dropped away. “I don't like that she took Calvin and Tris to learn how to shoot a gun and she did it anyway.”  
  
He waited for a second, clearly thinking there must be more, and when she didn't continue prodded, “And...? There's got to be more to it than that.”  
  
“She knows how much I hate guns!” she suddenly exclaimed, only keeping her voice down so she wouldn't disturb the kids in the other room. She turned to glare at him, saying, “She knows, and she did it anyway! Tris is only ten, she doesn't need to be around guns, and Cal isn't much older! There isn't any reason he needs to be near them either! But it doesn't matter that I hate this, she did it anyway!”  
  
“Yeah but... Clarke,” he replied, frowning slightly, “There's got to be more to it than that. Lexa would never do anything that would upset you unless she had a really good reason.”  
  
“There is no reason that a kid should be around guns,” she snapped, her glare intensifying and Bellamy held up his hands in a kind of peace treaty. “Well yeah, no, you're right, but Lexa knows that. And it's not like they went to play with them or anything, she and Echo are just teaching them the basics.” Clarke shook her head roughly, gritting her jaw and then looked away from him, glaring at the wall. He watched her for a second and then said, “So I take it this is a pretty big fight?” She was silent and then admitted without looking at him still, “We haven't even slept in the same bed for three nights.”  
  
His eyes widened and she tried not to look past him into the living room. That first night she had tossed and turned on the couch, too upset and feeling out of place to be able to sleep. The next night when she made it clear she didn't intend to sleep in their bed yet again Lexa had given her this lost, sad look that had torn at Clarke's chest despite her anger and then walked by her, offering to take the couch so she could be rested for her shift at the hospital the next day. Last night the brunette had done the same thing even though she didn't work today and Clarke had come temptingly close to telling her to stay in their room, desperately missing her wife but still too angry to give in. She thought that maybe at least Calvin guessed something was going on even though they'd both made sure to have any evidence of their night on the couch hidden away by the time any of the kids woke up. He hadn't said anything, but she was pretty sure she'd noticed him watching them more closely than usual, and the fact that their fight might be affecting him had made her more careful with how she acted around the other woman when he or either of the other two were around.  
  
“Uh, don't you think maybe that's a little extreme?” Bellamy asked, still giving her a look. “I mean, they're just guns Clarke.” Blue eyes flew back to him and his brow shot up at the look she shot him. “Guns _kill_ people, Bellamy,” she growled, anger flashing across her face but he didn't let it or her tone get to him. Instead he just scoffed, replying, “No, _people_ kill people, Clarke, you know that. A gun's just a tool, that's all.” A cry in the other room caught their attention and he glanced over his shoulder before standing up. Looking back at her, he continued, “If you ask me, you're mad over nothing. Like 'em or hate 'em, guns are just guns and you know there's no one better to teach your kids how to use one than Lexa. She'd never let anything bad happen to Cal or Tris, and neither would Echo. You're sitting here pissed while they're learning something that might actually come in handy one day.” He shrugged as he turned around and began making his way to the living room, where they could still hear his daughter crying for him. “I'm just saying Clarke, maybe it's time to let this one go.”  
  
She glared at him as he disappeared into her living room, hating that she knew he was right.

***

When Lexa turned into her driveway Sunday morning, tiny beads of perspiration trickling down the side of her face from her run, she was surprised to find Clarke sitting in the car, apparently waiting for her. She slowed down, eyeing the car and blonde suspiciously, but then cautiously approached the driver's side of the vehicle where her wife sat. She and Clarke still had barely talked even after they got back from the shooting range the previous day, so she had no idea what was going on. To the best of her knowledge the doctor didn't have a shift at the hospital or any errands planned, so she had absolutely no idea what Clarke was doing just sitting in the car.  
  
“Clarke?” she asked hesitantly, eyeing first the car and then the house and then back to the blonde. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Get in,” her wife just said, not giving any further explanation as she started the car. Lexa's eyes widened and then looked back to the house. “Uh Clarke, the kids?” She could already tell none of their kids were in the car, and when she'd left the house an hour or so ago Calvin had been sitting in his corner working on a new comic and Tris and Skylar had been watching cartoons. Calvin may be thirteen, but she wasn't sure she was quite ready to leave him in charge of both his little sisters, especially when she had no idea where they were going or how long they'd be gone for.  
  
Apparently her fears were unnecessary. “Raven picked them up a few minutes ago,” the other woman answered, eyes moving back and forth between Lexa and the front windshield, as though she couldn't look at the brunette for very long without needing to look away. “They're hanging out with her until we get back and then she's coming over for dinner as payment.”  
  
At that Lexa hesitated for only an instant longer before mentally shrugging and moving over to the passenger's side and getting in. Despite the strangeness of the moment, she knew Clarke must have a good reason for whatever this was, so she decided to just go along with it. Settling into her seat she grabbed her seat belt, and as she finished pulling it across her she saw the blonde move out of the corner of her eye, and then she was handing Lexa a water bottle, one that had clearly just come out of the fridge. The brunette flashed her a small smile of thanks and accepted it before uncapping it and taking a few long sips, closing her eyes as the cold water quenched the thirst she'd built up during her run. Clarke just nodded back, something in her eyes seeming to soften even though she didn't look at Lexa, and then she was pulling out of the driveway.  
  
They drove in relative silence, the only sound breaking through coming from the radio and traffic around them as they made their way into and through the busier parts of the city. For a few minutes Lexa debated asking where they were going but chose not to, figuring she would find out when they got there and deciding to just sit in the almost peaceful quiet between them. There was still an edge to it, a feeling she couldn't quite shake she'd seldom felt before between herself and her wife, but it wasn't as heavy as it had been over the past couple of days. Something in Clarke's demeanor had shifted and Lexa decided it was best not to push at it in the hopes things might somehow fall back into normalcy.  
  
Lexa didn't ask where they were going and Clarke never offered it up, so when the blonde pulled the car into a parking lot very familiar to the brunette, Lexa's brow furrowed in utter confusion. It wasn't a place she'd been to often but it was somewhere she'd been recently, and she had absolutely no idea why she was back and least of all why Clarke had brought her but the other woman continued to say nothing as she parked the car and turned off the ignition. Grabbing the keys she turned around, reaching for something behind Lexa's seat, and the brunette's eyes widened in further surprise when Clarke pulled out the case she stored her gun in. She looked down at the black case, worrying her lip a little, and then looked up to meet Lexa's look and just pushed her door open. “Come on.”  
  
“Clarke,” Lexa tried, scrambling a little to get out of the car and figure out what was going on. She rounded the car at the same time as her wife, and didn't hesitate to lightly grab her elbow. “What are we doing here? Why do you have my gun?” The blonde met her eyes, her suddenly determined expression not shifting as green quickly scanned along her face and simply answered, “You're going to teach me how to shoot.”  
  
She stepped forward at that, Lexa's grip slipping from her elbow, and it seemed to take a few seconds for the information to fully process for her wife because she was already a few steps away when Lexa had to hurry to catch up, once again reaching out. “I'm what?” the brunette asked, clear confusion obvious in both her face and voice, and Clarke glanced over at her, trying to pretend this was all entirely natural and that her heart wasn't beating a little wildly in her chest. “You're going to teach me how to use your gun, Lexa.”  
  
“Clarke, you hate guns,” she argued, now keeping in perfect step with her wife but no less confused. “You've been mad at me for days because I wanted to teach our kids how to use them, and now you want to know too? This doesn't make sense.”  
  
“It doesn't need to make sense,” Clarke insisted as she stared forward, nearing the gun range. This was an inside range but even so ever since she'd turned the car off she'd been able to hear the low _popp_ ing of gunshots, and the closer they got to the building the louder the noise became. She swallowed down the nerves she felt growing at the sounds and just kept going forward, forcing herself not to slow down. She'd decided this needed to happen and wasn't going to let herself run away, even if Lexa was right about her hating guns. These things had driven a wedge between them long enough, a wedge she knew was entirely her own fault, and she wasn't about to let it go any further.  
  
Despite her own determination, Lexa seemed equally determined not to let her do something she clearly didn't want to do. Her grip on the blonde's arm tightened, pulling her to a stop as she insisted, “Clarke, wait.” Clarke decided not to fight back and stopped, turning to look at her wife and felt the nerves wrestling in her stomach settle just a little at the worry she could see in Lexa's eyes as she once again scanned her face. “Whatever this is, you don't need to do it. We can go back to the car and just... drive around, if you want. Find some place to talk. I'm not going to make you do something that will make you uncomfortable.”  
  
Her wife's words finally managed to break through the weird funk she'd been feeling over the past few days and Clarke actually felt her lips curl up into a small, genuine smile. Reaching down, her free hand slipped into Lexa's, and she saw both the surprise and relief flash briefly across the brunette's face.  
  
“I know,” she murmured, feeling almost as though her body were being drawn to Lexa, as though the minimal amount of space between them was simultaneously shrinking and growing all at once. “You're pretty great like that. But this is something I want to do.” When one of Lexa's eyebrows rose, clearly disbelieving, Clarke squeezed her hand. “I mean it, Lexa. We can find somewhere to talk after, but I want to do this.” The brunette studied her for another moment and then nodded slowly, and with another small smile Clarke let her hand drop before turning back around and walking towards the gun range.  
  
Inside, they set themselves up at one row, feeling disconnected from the few other people already there and shooting which was exactly how Clarke wanted it. Lexa took the case from her and unlocked it, pulling first the protective eyewear and earplugs she'd put in there the day before for herself and the kids out, handing a pair of glasses and set of earplugs to her wife. Once finished with that she picked up the Glock and quickly loaded it, Clarke watching the whole time. The two then stepped between the dividers and Lexa handed the gun to the blonde, showing her the best way to hold it.  
  
With the earplugs and gunfire all around them, Lexa couldn't easily tell Clarke how to use the weapon, but she didn't need to. The blonde could feel her wife's instruction in her movements, heard the silent words she would have otherwise said through her touch. Lexa shaped her arms, showing her how to hold them, pressed lightly against her left wrist and Clarke could hear the nonexistent “Relax.” A light touch of her other hand to the space between other woman's shoulder blades had the tension Clarke had been carrying in them melting away and she fell into a sort of zen state of listening to her wife's touches. Her heart still leaped the first time she pulled the trigger and the gun jumped to life in her hands, the short but loud _bang_ hitting her eardrums despite the earplugs, but Lexa's arms lightly around her steadied her. It didn't quite beat as hard the second or third time the gun went off, but it never fell back to a normal tempo either. Sweat trickled down the side of her face, only partially due to the slightly higher temperature inside than it was outside, but Lexa held her gently and she didn't let it get to her. She went through the entire clip and then her wife showed her how to reload another and they did it all over again.  
  
They didn't stay for long; Lexa didn't have many clips left from their trip the day before and Clarke wasn't there to become a good shot, just to hold, use and familiarize herself with the gun. Soon they were packing it back into its case along with the eyewear and earplugs, and with a small shared smile they made their way back out of the building. As they walked Lexa's arms brushed against Clarke's, and where she hesitated, unsure if this feeling she had was all in her mind or not, Clarke didn't, slipping her fingers between the brunette's.  
  
“Want to go for a walk?” the blonde asked, glancing over quickly out of the corner of her eye. Lexa nodded even as she held up the gun case in her other hand, telling her, “Let me just put this in the car. There's a park just down the road we could go to.” Clarke returned the nod and let Lexa lead the way first to the car where they dropped off the case, sticking it behind the passenger's seat again and locking it behind them, and then they left the parking lot and headed down the street.  
  
Once again they fell into silence as they walked, but this silence felt entirely comfortable to both of them and Lexa couldn't quite keep herself from smiling as they went. Her hand remained glued to her wife's and her chest felt lighter than it had for days and nothing else really seemed to matter other than the fact that they were together. She knew everything wasn't exactly back to normal, knew they still needed to talk about all of this, but for the moment she was happy to ignore that and just walk with Clarke. They got to the park and wandered around for a little while until Clarke led them over to a bench, and when they sat they did so with very little space left between them, their hands still practically tied together. For a few minutes they let the silence settle between them, listening to the birds flying around them and the soft whisper of the breeze blowing through the trees, and then the blonde sighed.  
  
“I'm sorry Lexa,” she said, her head rolling back so she could stare up at the leaves hanging over them as she tried to get her thoughts together. Sitting with her wife as they held on to each other was almost enough to convince her they didn't need to talk, that they could both just let the past few days go, but she knew Lexa deserved more than that even if getting her next few thoughts out would be difficult. “I'm sorry for being so... difficult. You didn't deserve any of that.”  
  
“It's alright, Clarke,” Lexa began, but the moment she started talking the blonde was shaking her head. “No it's not,” she told her, picking her head back up and making herself look at the brunette. “Not at all.” Lexa remained quiet then, just giving her a little nod, clearly seeing she had something she needed to say and giving her the time she needed to get those thoughts in order. They swirled around Clarke's head, each one causing a fresh wave of emotion to wash through her gut, but she held that emotion back, only letting it show by the way she licked her lips, fighting it all back. She wasn't entirely sure how to get her thoughts into actual words but then she looked over to Lexa, asking her, “Did I ever tell you about the dream I had the night you told me you wanted to join the Marines?” The other woman's eyes widened and she shook her head, asking, “You mean back in high school?”  
  
“Yeah,” Clarke replied, giving a slow nod. Lexa shook her head again and the blonde tipped her head back again, her eyes closing as she thought back to it. “You remember I wasn't exactly happy about the news.” She could picture the brunette nodding beside her and didn't have to open her eyes to see it. “Well that night I had a dream.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “A nightmare. We were just in bed together, not really doing anything I don't think and I was really happy. I could feel that, even in the dream. But then I looked over and your eyes were closed. At first it looked like you were just sleeping, but then I touched you and your skin was cold. All of a sudden even as I was watching there was blood, just there, coming from a wound in your stomach. There was nothing I could do, you were just... gone.” She paused then and knew Lexa could see the way she needed to swallow, to force back the bile of fear she felt whenever she remembered the dream. “There wasn't any gunshot or any sound at all really, it just happened and I knew I'd lost you.” She went quiet then for a long moment and Lexa hesitated, unsure if she was supposed to say something to that and not really knowing what, but finally the other woman's eyes opened and she could see Clarke staring up at the sky through the leaves, her brow slightly furrowed as though she were studying something.  
  
“I think that's really what started it,” she murmured, voice soft as if she were lost in thought. “That dream. It was the first time I really had to think about what my life would be like without you, and it just... it looked so real. The blood and your cold skin...” She shook her head, maybe needing to wipe away the image from her mind's eye even in that moment. “It's a nightmare that's just never really gone away. I can't even tell you how many times I've had it. During those last few months of high school, in college and med school... even in the past couple years. It just keeps coming back.” Lexa held her hand a little tighter, trying to be an anchor for Clarke; she'd figured out a while ago that some nights the other woman would have bad dreams and push herself closer to her in bed and the brunette would just hold her tighter, but she never really wanted to talk about them. It had never been difficult to imagine what they were about, not after so many years of knowing the blonde so well, but hearing Clarke finally talk about it made it more real.  
  
“And ever since becoming a surgeon, the dream's become more vivid,” she continued, the only indication she noticed Lexa's reactions coming from how she also gripped the other woman's fingers a little tighter. “I see you in front of me, bleeding to death, and there's nothing I can do about it. Nothing I try helps and I just... I lose you. And every time I just know it's a gunshot wound.” She shook her head and finally looked back over at her love, and Lexa could easily see her fear bleeding to the surface just at the memory of the images. That fear could also be heard in her voice as she continued, her tone a little softer than before. “When you were in the Marines, even before we were talking again, every day I would wonder if you were safe or if that would be the day I'd find out I'd lost you forever. And I know, I know I almost did Lexa. Many times.” She reached over with their connected hands, brushing a knuckle lightly over her right side, directly over where they both knew an old scar had been etched into her skin by a well-aimed bullet. Lexa's throat burned seeing the pain and fear spark in blue eyes and she wanted to lean forward, to capture Clarke's lips in her own and remind her just how alive she was and how she would always be there for her love but she could see the blonde wasn't finished yet from the way she bit her lip. Holding the impulse back, she sat patiently while Clarke searched for her next words and simply pressed her knee a little more firmly against her wife's.  
  
For just a second Clarke stared at her wife's side, easily imaging the scar hiding beneath her shirt. She'd lost count of the number of times her fingertips had run over it or her lips had brushed against it, lost count of the number of times she'd studied it when she thought Lexa wasn't looking. She knew Lexa didn't understand why she needed to touch it so much, why she often focused on it after getting her wife out of her shirt. To Lexa it was just a scar, an old injury, but to Clarke it was beautiful, a beautiful reminder of what she had and what she almost lost. She loved it because every time she touched it it was warm and would shift beneath her fingers to remind her how very alive her wife was.  
  
“You're right that I hate guns,” she finally said, her voice low. Eyes flickering up to meet green, she brushed her thumb over the back of Lexa's hand. “And I know I probably shouldn't, not, not the way I do. They're just tools; you're right about that too. It isn't the gun's fault when someone gets shot, but that doesn't stop me-” She had to cut herself off, fire suddenly burning up the back of her throat and she could feel hot tears building in the corners of her eyes. A second hand engulfed her own and she looked down to see both of Lexa's now wrapped around hers, the brunette silently giving her all the support she needed. Blinking quickly to push the tears back, her voice was thick as she managed to get out, “When I think of you Lexa, I can't, can't _breathe_. I see the images, see the blood and I just...” She shook her head, unable to accurately describe it and then met Lexa's eyes, and she noticed her brow rise just a little, probably at seeing the expression on the blonde's face shift. “And then you suddenly want our kids to be around guns? Want them anywhere near where people are shooting, even if it isn't a dangerous place? I couldn't, couldn't process it.” The burning in her throat grew bigger, her voice thick with it as she added, “I can't breathe when I think about losing you; I can't _function_ when I think about losing any of them. Every week I see kids come into the hospital and so often we can't save them and I see these families break down and I just can't fathom what that would be like. And I know I need to get over it but for so long guns have meant death to me, or at least the chance of death so when you wanted to teach them I just...”  
  
“I understand Clarke,” Lexa murmured, no longer able to stay quiet. She shifted a little closer to her wife, tugging her hand onto her lap and pressed her forehead against the side of the blonde's head. She could feel Clarke sink into the touch, saw her eyes close, and ran her thumb over the other woman's knuckles. “I do. I swear my heart stops whenever I think about anything happening to you or any of the kids and only starts again when I can hold you all and prove to myself you're alright. I would do anything to protect you.” She noticed the corners of the blonde's mouth turn up into a fraction of a smile and she wished she could spend an entire lifetime doing nothing but studying it. “You and them, you're the most important things in the world to me, and that's why I want you all to be safe.”  
  
“And that's why you want them to know how to use a gun,” Clarke continued for her, nodding even with Lexa still pressed against her. Her eyes opened and she pulled away just enough to turn to her and Lexa could see the understanding tucked into her expression. “I get it. Maybe I still don't like it, but I get it.” She let out a long sigh then and shook her head, the edges of her mouth dropping again just a little. “I shouldn't have gotten mad though, especially like that. You didn't deserve that at all and you never have.” Giving her a look, her voice softened a little as she added, “You're amazing, Lexa. Always have been.” Lexa felt herself smile and then leaned forward, free hand going to Clarke's face so she could cup her cheek as she pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her wife's lips, the first one in far too many days. “You're amazing too, Clarke,” she whispered as she pulled back, eyes shining as she continued to watch her beautiful wife. “And I understand why you were mad even if I still stick by my decision to teach Calvin and Tris how to handle a gun.”  
  
Clarke nodded, apparently in agreement, and then squeezed Lexa's hand before she lightly brushed her lips over the other woman's for barely more than a few seconds. “Come back to bed tonight?” she asked, glancing up at her wife through her eyelashes. She looked away for a second and then back, her cheeks heating up just a tad as she admitted, “I don't sleep very well when you're not there. I've missed you.” Lexa's smile grew as she nodded. “I've missed you too; the couch isn't anywhere near as comfortable as our bed and your arms.” Clarke let out a light chuckle, shaking her head, and then pressed a longer, more lingering kiss to the brunette's mouth.  
  
After that the tension that had been between the two of them entirely dissolved, each now thoroughly happy to just be leaning against the other. With the gun conversation behind them they were able to move on, and soon found themselves falling into the easy comfort they'd somehow always felt with the other. Before long they were joking and laughing and then Lexa stood up, pulling Clarke up behind her. The blonde expected her to lead the way out of the park and back to the car, but instead she continued down the pathways, apparently not ready to leave yet. Clarke followed without argument, perfectly happy to have Lexa all to herself for a little while longer. They meandered through the park, taking their time to stare at the fountains and enjoy the scenery as the conversation continued to easily flow between them.  
  
They'd stopped to lean against a thin black fence and watch some ducks swimming around in the pond at the center of the park when Clarke heard someone clear their throat behind them. Turning around, she found two men roughly their own age standing there, one grinning easily at her while the other stood just a step behind him, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck. Lexa turned around also to find the two of them, and lifted an eyebrow as the one who had cleared his throat continued to grin at the blonde.  
  
“Hey,” he greeted. “My name's Sterling, this is Myles.” He gestured to the other man, who gave them a weak smile. “We noticed you two ladies are alone and thought you might like some company.” He flashed another grin at Clarke, quite clearly interested in more than just keeping her company, and Lexa bristled beside her, something warm and not exactly pleasant rushing through her system. Clarke's eyes flickered over the man, clearly noticing the same thing, and shook her head. “Sorry, married,” she just said and the man's grin fell away for barely more than a second. “Oh,” he said dumbly, and then turned to Lexa, that same grin growing again. “Well what about you?” Now it was Clarke's turn to feel something hot course through her system, the jealousy almost a welcome change from the anger that had been there for so long instead, and she took a step closer to the brunette, wrapping her arm around her waist.  
  
“I don't think I was clear,” she informed them, and then pointed between herself and Lexa with the hand not gripping lightly against the brunette's hip. “ _We_ are married. To each other. Very happily.” That caused Lexa's lips to pull up into a small smile, an entirely different warmth growing in her chest and then spreading through the rest of her body as she slipped one arm around Clarke to mirror her wife's hold. Together they stared down this stranger as his eyes widened, glancing quickly between the two of them, and then he quickly took a step back.  
  
“O-Oh,” he stammered, “I didn't... Uh, okay, cool. Well then we'll just... go.” He turned around and quickly walked away, apparently not even caring that he left his friend behind, just trying to put as much distance between himself and this embarrassing situation as possible. Clarke and Lexa watched him flee, probably enjoying it more than they should, but then Lexa turned back to Myles as the second man continued to stand there, shaking his head. She could see his lips curling up into a grin and lifted her head a little higher as her brow rose.  
  
“I told him not to try,” he told them, possibly reading Lexa's expression, possibly just wanting to explain. He shrugged, still grinning as he gave them a look. “But he insisted. Told him he didn't stand a chance with either of you. Now not only is his pride wounded, he's also picking up the first round of drinks tonight.” As he turned around to follow his friend, he looked over his shoulder, giving them both another grin as he observed, “He's an idiot; it's clear you two are happy together.”  
  
“We are,” Clarke replied, her grip tightening a little around Lexa's waist. He nodded, and then threw back at them as he began to follow his friend, “You're lucky.” Lexa looked over at the blonde, the two sharing a small, almost secretive smile, and said, “We are.” The man left to rejoin his friend, but neither looked away from the other to watch him go.


End file.
